Accidents Happen
by KittyStrinx
Summary: Embarrassment is the theme for poor Beth Greene! A Bethyl story filled with cute moments of Beth captured on paper; but will her diary be the only one to find out? Still, in a world of survival, anything can happen!
1. Dear Diary

~+~Author's Note~+~

This is the first writing I really feel like is worth publishing! I wanted it to be a one-shot, but my fingers got away with me, so I think I'm going to write at least one more chapter-depending on reviews, I may make additional chapters. I actually have her writing in her diary as a different font in my document, but there aren't multiple fonts I can use here; therefore, when there are quotes without anything specifying speech afterward, it's part of her writing in her diary. And I don't own The Walking Dead or any of the characters; I'm just writing out a concept based on some of the things that happened in the story. And any lines that are like what happens in the story, I'm writing from memory, so if it's wrong, I'm sorry! Hope you enjoy!

**B**eth Greene, a beautiful, blue-eyed young blonde, tread slowly to her room and glanced around a bit at the place she called home. It was nice to have her own little space, even though it was technically a prison cell.

It was hard to imagine that outside the confines of the prison were disfigured, dead human bodies, walking around as though they still belonged on earth; but this was the world she lived in. She stretched her slender limbs before taking her diary in hand and settling herself on her bed.

She hated thinking of who could have previously been living there just for the factor of using a bed that who-knows-how-many people before had used, but she loved entertaining the idea of what their lives might have been like. Often, she day-dreamed about this concept when she had to hang out with Judith, her little baby roommate. Tonight, though, Judith was being handled by someone else, so she could catch up on some quality time with her diary. Before now, there was hardly any opportunity for her to write in it, so there were plenty of things on her mind by the time she sat down to write.

"Dear diary, while I'm writing this, my cheeks might just burst on fire from all that I've been through already this week. I seriously feel so stupid and just downright clumsy! I guess I should let you in on what's happened so far. I haven't written you in a little while, so I figured I might as well—even though part of me doesn't even want to admit what's happened.

If I've been keeping track of the date right, then it was Monday that my first, awful embarrassment took place.

I was on my way from taking Judith to Carol when one of Judith's toys placed clumsily in the hall tripped me—I hadn't even noticed it was there. I reacted by moving so my backside would hit the floor first (goodness knows I wouldn't want Judith to get hurt! She's just a baby), but my fall was broken by a sweaty, somewhat grimy grip, and when I looked up, I saw a flash of baby blue eyes and genuine concern on an otherwise rugged face. My heart thumped so loudly in my chest as my own eyes widened in shock; I probably looked like a deer in the headlights.

It was Daryl Dixon! That man, I swear, is gonna be the death of me. I mean, I know he saved me from hitting the floor, but my first instinct was to jump away, and I cautiously watched him collect the baby toy from the ground.

"Don't want nobody else trippin'," he mumbled in his gravelly voice.

Part of me felt like he was annoyed, but he kept glancing at me to like check me and the baby over—probably more Judy than me, really. But when I saw his glance moving over my body, I got chills and goosebumps, and they really showed. I was scared, with how perceptive he is, that he'd catch them, so I just meekly accepted the toy from him and walked as quickly as I could away. I didn't want him to know just how mortified I was.

"Careful," he warned after me.

I'm sure he thought I was being stupid. Like, I almost tripped, and there I was nearly galloping away from the scene. It was just so embarrassing, though!

On Tuesday, Judith was raising a huge fuss over nap-time, so I went to go get Carol to see if she could get the girl to calm down. As I dashed around the corner, I felt my body slam into someone whose first instinct was to keep me aright by grabbing my shoulders—it was the same feel and smell as last time, and I couldn't bear to look him in the eye.

"Whatcha runnin' around for like a chicken witchyur head cut off?" he asked, seeming amused by my flushed complexion.

I was so irritated at myself that I pulled away and ran off, again—well, kind of. Last time was more of a quick walk, and now it was seriously a run. After round of embarrassment #1, the second round seemed to just augment the level of shame I was feeling. Mr. Dixon probably thinks I'm such a silly child, and I'd hate to admit that's how he thinks of me—it's probably how everyone thinks of me. I always want to feel like a bigger part of the group, but I'm just the babysitter... Ugh! Sorry, I keep telling you that. But I won't tell anyone else, so you may have to just deal with it!

Moving on. Wednesday was, I guess, not as awful as days one and two...kind of. I was hanging out with Judy in the library early in the morning, reading a little book to her, and I had just gotten up to grab another one, but when I turned around, I almost walked right into him. I didn't even realize he was standing there, and I jumped to the side a little and gave a quick apology.

"S'all right. Seem to like bumpin' into me lately," he gave a small smirk as he said that before he cooed at Judy a little bit, crouching down to pick her up.

Honestly, he seems like such a natural with kids! No one would really expect that out of gruff, hardcore Daryl Dixon. I mean, if anyone survives out of all this, it's going to be him. And here I am rambling again. Sorry! But yeah, it was actually pretty cute to see them juxtaposed together—a clean, young, white baby next to a kind of dirty, older, tanned man. But their smiles looked really similar; it was sweet.

He handed the baby off to me before he left and gently tugged my ponytail as he walked away. I still don't really know why he did that...but I turned around and watched him as he strode off.

Thursday was somewhat uneventful, but I did catch a glance of him before I tucked Judy away for bed. He had just come back from a run—he'd been out with the boys since the day before (I guess why he visited Judy real quick in the morning), so he looked even more dirt- and grime-covered than usual. I actually jumped up to go see him—not really sure why. I mean, it's not like we've been such good friends or anything, but I still just ambled up to him and asked how the run went.

"Didn' really get all we need, so we're goin' back out tomorrow. 'N your boy Zach said he's goin'," he just said casually. Kind of surprised he said that much, though; he hardly talks.

For some reason, I hadn't really been thinking about Zach at all with this week's drudgeries—my babysitting Judy and his helping with the farm work with Rick, Carl, and them. We hadn't seen each other much lately, so I made a mental note to see him off before he left. We really aren't much more than just friends—if that, really. I mean, I like him, and he's cute, but we haven't known each other very long at all. Still, saying I'm with him keeps other guys from staring at me for too long. I hate that uncomfortable feeling of someone just staring at me like that. It's not like I'm all that pretty or anything, either. To say I'm emotionally attached would be a bit of a reach, I think.

Yesterday, Friday, the boys all left. I threw in a little kiss for Zach before he left, since no one really knows what's going to happen on a run. I didn't say good-bye, though—I refuse to do that. It's like closing a chapter of a book, and if something really does happen to him, I guess it would feel like I had something to do with it. Anyway, as I was walking off, the truck's door that I was closing in on suddenly opened, and I almost got hit by it.

I didn't have any time to react, so I just closed my eyes, but then I felt my elbow getting pulled on and my body embraced by strong arms. That same, familiar smell stirred up some kind of warmth in me, and I felt a little dizzy. I dunno why it is I feel that way around him—Mr. Dixon, I mean. I think it's because I feel so dang embarrassed! But he quickly let go, and it kind of left a pit in my stomach. It's still kind of bothering me now, really.

I wish I could will this feeling away! I don't think I've felt this flustered this long in all my life. Maybe if I could just pretend it didn't happen...?

Anyway, today is Saturday, and the boys should be coming back from their run any time now. I can't wait to see them come back!"

A little smile suffused her features, and a small blush occupied her cheeks before her eyes widened in shock.

"Oh no! I was thinking about getting to see Daryl Dixon! I don't know why that happened—I'm excited to see Zach, really. I mean, I think so..."

She sighed and chewed on the end of her writing instrument.

"I guess I really haven't had the chance to entertain the idea, but Daryl is pretty handsome underneath all that dirt. I mean, there's no way it could happen; he's way older than me. He'd hardly consider being with someone like me."

Her gaze shot into the distance a little as she felt someone's stare. Even though it seemed like he was trying to make them audible, his footsteps were barely heard.

"Hey, Daryl," she said, trying to sound as casual as her voice would let her.

Honestly, she felt like she had been caught red-handed, but she hoped he wouldn't notice. He seemed to be mulling over something else, though, and her heart caught for a moment.

"Is it Zach?" she asked bluntly.

His eyes barely met hers when he mumbled, "Yeah."

"Is he dead?" she continued, sounding almost as though she had no concern in the issue.

Not wanting to skirt the issue but still not wanting to tell her, he looked away and back before giving a little nod. After hopping up and putting the counter back down to zero for number of days without incident, she lay back down and jotted in her diary again.

"Looks like Zach didn't make it. That's the second boyfriend I've lost to these things. Maybe I'm just not supposed to be with anyone at all."

She glanced back up to see Daryl still standing there, eying her carefully.

"What, Daryl? I'm not going to bust out in tears; I don't cry any more," she stated firmly.

She didn't really feel sorry for Zach. For starters, he didn't have to deal with what was left of the world any longer; he didn't have to feel the worry and pain any more that every single survivor left was forced to face. Honestly, she envied him a little.

The look on Daryl's face caught her off guard, however. She couldn't quite read his emotions still, but he seemed kind of lonely.

"Are you okay?" she asked more tenderly now.

Shrugging, he turned his head to her a little, leaning against the door.

"Just tired of losin' people... That's all," he answered openly.

Maybe he really was lonely. With that thought, she lay aside her diary and walked up to him. As though asking permission, she glanced at him before giving him a soft hug. She hoped that the compassion she felt would leach into her hug and embrace his heart; those eyes he showed her hurt her more than knowing that Zach was dead. She felt him softly hold her at her elbows as though slowly giving in to her touch. Glancing up to see if it had any effect on him, she grimaced a little and pulled her sleeve up further on her shoulder; it almost looked like he was lonelier now than when she first embraced him.

Before she could walk back over to her bed, he reached out and gently took her arm just above the elbow.

A few moments' pause came before he muttered, "Ya sure you're all right?"

Turning her face a little so her gaze could meet his, she nodded slowly. "Are you, though?" she asked hesitantly.

He glanced between her eyes and, for a moment, she felt her heart leap in her chest. Maybe it was the way his half-closed eyes were staring at her or the way he was still holding onto her arm or the fact that they were standing so close, but she thought for a second that he wanted to kiss her. Letting go, he nodded and then shook his head a little before he walked away just as silently as he came in.

Flopping down onto her bed once she was sure he was out of earshot, she stared dazedly at the empty doorway. What just happened?


	2. Drenched

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. So... yeah. Anyway! So my guest reviewers have inspired me to continue on with more than a two-chapter fling—and I'm amazed to see so many views on my first chapter, and from all over! Thanks for taking the time to read my work! I was considering just ending the story here with something cutesy for a two-chapter one-shot (I know, that doesn't really exist, hahah). My hope is to post a chapter a day-ish, depending on how busy life gets and how much homework I have to do (although even a two-word review would spur me on!). Again, I unfortunately can't change the font, so the really big quotations are going to be her writing in her diary. Hope you enjoy this chapter, too!

**A** few days had passed, and Beth found herself alone in her room, shortly to be separated from the rest of her group, so she took up her pen and began to jot down a few things; but before she knew it, her mind was wandering, and she had to force herself to concentrate on writing.

"Everyone's kept watching me these last couple days since Zach died. It's really awkward, honestly. What, does everyone think I'm just going to mope around and cry all the time? I dunno if they do or don't, but I know I'm not going to let myself get like that. I can't—can't even force myself to cry about it, honestly.

I haven't seen much of Daryl lately, so it feels a little strange. I know he's really busy, but I've been wanting to talk to him about the way he looked at me and everything.

In other news, Daddy thinks there's a flu bug going around, 'cause some people are coughing and sneezing and are really fatigued. Rick's got plans underway to keep me and the kiddos, including Judith, away from everyone else. No way I'll be able to talk to Daryl at all in that time, and when everything boils over, there won't be much point to by then, I think.

I don't know why I keep thinking about Daryl—and I wouldn't call him "Daryl" to his face, either, but I guess it's fine here since no one else will see it, probably until I'm dead. But honestly, that might not be too far from now. Everyone's whispering about finding somewhere safer or worrying about how long until the fence collapses. We've put reinforcements there, but it doesn't seem like it'll hold long, honestly. If we have to move again, I know some of us won't make it."

She took a pause from her diary-writing to look up. Judith was crying a little, so she jumped to her feet and cradled her in her arms.

"It's okay," she said softly. "Even if something like that happens, I know someone else will take care of you."

"Not plannin' on doin' somethin' again, are ya?" a gruff voice asked from her doorway, and she jumped. When she turned around, Daryl Dixon was there giving her a pointed look.

She was shocked to have been found out—no one ever heard her saying things like that but the baby and her diary, not to mention she hadn't even expected to see the man at all for a while.

"Not like I haven't entertained the thought before," she stated after taking a moment to regroup and then handed him Judith, "but I'm past that now. I was just thinkin' if we have to leave, some of us won't...well, you know..."

She didn't have the courage to say it aloud. Writing it was one thing, but voicing it was another. His eyes pierced through her, and she wasn't sure what to make of it, but his attention turned back to Judith.

"You haven't been around anyone sick?" she asked curiously.

"Nah, been on guard mostly," he answered absently.

She was glad to hear he stood little chance of getting sick; thinking about it anyway, however, she realized it was a dumb question to ask. He wouldn't put the baby in danger of getting sick. Despite her mind wandering down that path, another thought was playing in the back of her mind. With it nagging at her, she was severely tempted to ask him about that one night, yet she lost her nerve when she didn't ask him right away.

"Li'l ass-kicker here's got more fight than you," he said out of nowhere, smirking at her as he cuddled the baby close and rocked her.

"What?" she asked, mouth dropping. "That is so not true. I'm just being realistic here."

"Well, if yer thinkin' a baby's gonna last longer than you, 'course that means she's got more fight," he countered as he passed the baby off to her again.

His words settled on her, and her brows furrowed as she tried to come up with something else to say. Despite the simplicity of them, his words had a profound effect on her.

"Yer not dyin', so don't pretend ya are," he commanded as he left the room.

Even if he didn't use a loud voice, his words sounded very authoritative and hit her like a sixteen-wheeler. Stepping out while holding the baby, she watched him walk away, still stunned by his words. They played back and forth in her mind as his figure faded from her view.

He had such a confident stride...and he had honestly caught her off guard in the first place. Beth Greene didn't expect anyone, much less Daryl Dixon, to overhear her saying something like that. Yet another thing she could add to her list of embarrassing moments.

"Dear diary, the words that Daryl said to me out of nowhere today are still running through my mind, over and over again. I don't even mean to, but I keep playing them back, I guess wondering if there's something else he means by them. Maybe it's just me being crazy; I dunno. He did say he's tired of losing people, though, so he probably just doesn't want to hear anyone talk about it even if it's the truth. I mean, I don't really see myself making it through this to whatever end might be waiting on the other side. I don't have any real skill; I can sort of shoot a gun, but I haven't in quite some time, so I probably am beyond out of practice.

Still, I guess I should think about the people who know how to use weapons. I know Glenn and Maggie would try to help me out if I got in a bind, but they have Daddy to worry about, too. I wonder if maybe I could ask to get some kind of training or something... I think it'd be good for everyone here to be equipped to fight well, and that means me, too. But...I have to babysit the kids while everyone is sick, and I doubt after that anyone else can take my place.

I feel stuck, diary."

Today was the last day that she would be allowed freedom before her confinement with the children, and although her efforts were incessant, she couldn't force herself out of her thoughts of Daryl Dixon. He was like an overwhelming intruder in her mind with no force equal to stop it. Even though she was supposed to be helping out some of the women from Woodbury with the chores, she found herself lost in thought.

In the corner of her eye, she noticed knuckles approaching and wiggling by her head. Leaning back, she noticed Carol pretending to knock at her head.

"Anyone home?" she asked with a smirk on her face before she waved at the water over-flowing from Beth's bucket.

"Whoa—crap!" Beth cried as she frantically stopped her zombie-like pumping action at the water pump.

"Geez, Beth. Everyone's all worried about you, but here you are day-dreaming about God only knows what," she teased with a wink at the younger, obviously flustered girl.

She felt like she had been caught in more than one sense—wasting water and day-dreaming when she was supposed to be feeling sad. Was she really supposed to feel sad? She wasn't even sure any more.

"I don't know why everyone's worried," she stated bluntly.

"I know," Carol echoed her sentiment. "You seem to be just fine."

Her eyebrows raised at the younger girl, forcing a blush onto her face.

"Don't mistake me, Beth; I'm glad you're not dawdling around in self-pity. It's good that you're strong enough to move past it like this. I don't think I need to ask, but you really _are_ past it, aren't you?" she inquired with raised eyebrows.

After a moment, she nodded, not trying to seem too ready to say she was fine but still wanting to show she was certain, and said, "I really am okay."

"Good girl," Carol praised before helping Beth up with her pail. "Your father brought in some herbs with Carl—said they're supposed to help—so we need to boil this water up."

"Okay," she replied cheerily, eliciting another round of raised eyebrows from the older woman and, subsequently, an embarrassed giggle and blush from Beth.

As soon as she had temporarily relieved herself of her mindless Daryl daydreams, she locked eyes with a pair of fierce blue eyes and lost track of herself, bumping against a support beam and splashing the entire bucket's contents onto Carol. She clasped her free hand to her mouth and dropped the bucket before letting out a low-breathed "shit" under her breath.

Choked laughter was heard until she again found the eyes she had seen earlier with her own, and an eruption of laughter ensued. Daryl Dixon's hearty laugh sent Beth's heart into panic mode and forced her face on fire as Carol made a strong effort to contain herself.

"I'll get some more water," she mumbled.

"Carol, I'm so, so sorry," Beth apologized, horrified with the outcome of her so-called "help."

"Shit, huh," Daryl echoed what she stated, and her face turned an even darker shade of red.

Shaking his head with a big grin still left on his face, he started to walk away when all of a sudden a torrent of water flooded him from behind. Doused from head to foot in the back, he turned around on his heel to meet with Carol's mischievous smirk as she held a bucket on her hip. Water dripped from his bangs as his eyes slanted angrily. He stomped up to her, but she folded her arms across her chest.

"Not laughing anymore? Ah, well, ya needed a bath, pooky," she winked and slapped his arm before she took Beth's hand and escorted her back inside. "We'll have to have someone else go get the water now, huh? Oh, Lizzie! Would you go fill this bucket for me?"

The young girl whom Carol spoke to furrowed her brows, questioning her, "Why are you all wet?"

"It was hot outside. Daryl and I decided to use the water to cool down. Run along and make sure not to spill any! We've already used up enough," she said, smiling knowingly at Beth who loved Carol's usage of the word "decided."

Beth couldn't help but smile back, albeit sheepishly, and she watched the younger girl saunter off with the bucket in hand. This certainly was one for the books...

Once everything calmed down, Beth was sequestered with the children and Judith to try to keep the illness from spreading to them. Still, she brought her diary with her, and, although she almost preferred not to record the day's events, she drew up another one of her writing tools once again and wrote.

"Dear diary, today has been real eventful. After we brewed my daddy's "tea," cups of it were passed down to everyone who's sick, and many of them asked for another round as soon as the first was down. My daddy says, though, that the things we got on hand right now won't last us very long, especially if the whole group gets sick. At least, that's what I'm hearing. Rick tries to keep me updated; Carl, too. He refuses to accept himself as one of the children. Honestly, though, I wouldn't mind his company.

Anyway, I guess Daryl and them are gonna go on a run for supplies. I hope this run works out better than last time.

I dunno why I keep focusing on him now while I'm writing... but anyway, I guess since I've already started on him, I should tell you what happened today. I totally soaked Carol from the waist down on accident! Just because I saw his eyes, I got distracted and ran right into something that made me lose my grip. Well, I accidentally cursed, and Daryl laughed at me. He totally caught me cursing 'cause he repeated what I said! So that was two embarrassing things at once...

And then Carol! She seemed like she was kind of down about getting her clothes wet like that, but then she came racing up and splashed him, too—I mean, he was soaked. He looked like a wet cat! About as angry as one, too. The look on his face was so ferocious, but Carol payed it no mind as she stood up to him. He didn't react or anything, either; not before Carol whisked me away. I'm kinda nervous that he might be angry at me, too...

At dinnertime, I guess everyone was picking on him about it a little, too, saying it was about time he bathed—that's what Carol told me. She filled me in on the gossip when she brought food for everyone over here. He didn't take too well to everyone's banter and went on watch before it was his turn. Despite what people think, I honestly feel like he's proud. That's what it seems like, at least. And I don't mean like boastful, I mean he's kind of...insecure?"

Gently rolling her pencil between her teeth, she took a moment for thought. It was weird how things she thought about other people didn't really take form in her mind until she started writing it on paper. New pieces of their personalities would suddenly become known to her just from a little time of scrawling notes on paper.

"Well, I don't have much else to write right now, so I guess that's it until next time."


	3. Unexpected Changes

~+~Author's note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Okay, so I know I didn't post it two days ago like I should have, but I had a lot jam-packed into this week. I made it a slightly longer chapter with a bit of a twist today that I hope you will all enjoy! To answer my epic reviewer (she and I are besties, hahah), I intend to do with the story as I please—I'll stick to the plot on some things but alter others to how I think it should happen to create the character changes I want! So it won't be a total deviation, but I hope you all like all the changes I have planned out. And no, I'm not giving any other spoilers. Lol! Except that I'm not going to kill off Daryl or Beth. Thank you for the follows/reviews/reads! I'm glad that so many people have read my story. Please, enjoy!

"**D**ear diary, despite everyone's efforts and going out of their way to keep us, I guess, "contained," one of the Woodbury boys, Patrick, got really sick. Everyone wanted to put him with all the other sick people, but I have him in a room here quarantined by himself. We've already been exposed, so there really isn't much point to move him. He might only get sicker than he already is.

So I'm taking care of him and making sure all the other children keep their distance and try not to rub their eyes and noses, but that's almost like keeping them from breathing! Pretty sure all of us in here are gonna take turns getting sick. I think fresh air would do us all good, but no one wants the contamination going everywhere. I feel so cooped up."

As she lay aside her pencil, a soft rap to the door turned her attention away. She rushed up and slowly opened the door a crack, surprise written on her face when her sister, Maggie, showed up.

"Hey, Beth. Daddy... He... Well," Maggie stuttered a little as though searching for words.

"What is it? ... Well, spit it out," Beth said more anxiously than chiding.

Glancing up from the floor with tears in her eyes, Maggie replied, "He and Glenn are real ill. They spent too much time taking care of the sick."

Her voice was breaking as she spoke, and Beth opened the door wider and pulled her sister into a hug.

"Maggie, it'll be fine. Daddy's gone through worse, and Glenn is strong. I know if anyone, they'll be okay," she stated with a forced conviction. "We all have jobs to do. We're not allowed to get upset, remember?"

Nodding with a few leftover sniffs, Maggie held her little sister for a few more moments. She then leaned back and pet her sister's blonde hair out of her face.

"I don't know how ya stay so hopeful," she whispered admiringly. "You've lost three people close to you but still have the strength to hold up others. I wish I had that, too."

Widened eyes met her sister's fond gaze, and she shook her head disbelievingly.

"Maggie, you're stronger than me. You go out on these runs while I just stay here all sheltered. You're just stressed and worried; everyone gets like that," she advised her.

"It's more than that," Maggie replied confidently. "I've seen Carol and Rick, even Daryl, come by just for a little bit of your company. You're like a bright little flower in a prison."

Beth's brows lowered in confusion.

"What?" she added.

"Daryl's been around here? He hasn't said a word to me since I've been stuck in here," she relayed to her sister.

Frowning in thought, Maggie turned her head away but then back again with a wink as she laid the drawl on thick and said, "Maybe he thinks you're cute but don't got the guts to say it."

Heat rose to Beth's face, and she slapped her sister's shoulder in annoyance.

"That is _not_ true!" she contested, stomping over back to her diary and closing it in agitation.

"Oooh... Somethin' in there about prince charming Daryl?" Maggie teased as she attempted to snag it from her.

As they fought over the little book, a familiar voice suddenly broke their little tiff up, saying, "What the hell are you two goin' on about?"

"N...nothin'!" Beth stammered while she reclaimed her precious cargo and seated herself on her bed. And of course Daryl Dixon would be present at a time like this.

"Oh, just talkin' about her current love interest," Maggie winked at her as she told him this, forcing Beth's stomach to convulse on itself as she shot her a death glare.

She seriously regretted giving her sister that little pep talk; she seemed to be feeling a bit _too_ good.

"Huh..." Daryl huffed out nonchalantly, but his glance flashed briefly her way before he looked at Maggie again. That small exchanged glance had no discernible meaning to it, although it seemed like a thought went through his mind. It made Beth curious. "You comin'?"

"Yeah, I just needed to catch Beth up on what's goin' on," Maggie replied, showing little to no sign of her earlier breakdown.

Realizing what they were talking about, Beth stared longingly after them. A subtle pout stretched across her features, unbeknownst to herself, but Daryl gave her a weird look. Catching herself, Beth began to play with her hair and looked away as they left.

No other words were exchanged inside the room, and their leaving left Beth feeling a little empty.

If she let herself really admit how she felt, a part of her wished she were more useful to everyone; but another part of her felt insecure, as though she wouldn't be able to be of more help even if she tried. Instead of keeping her thoughts inside, she decided to write them to her diary. Reopening to her last-visited page, she began to write again.

"Daryl and Maggie visited just now. I was kinda happy to see them both, but Maggie had bad news—Daddy and Glenn have the flu now, too. I'm worried as well, but she needed a little pep talk to keep her running, so I reminded her what Daddy told us. You know, that we all have our own jobs to do.

Well, anyway, she was picking on me about Daryl liking me (which I don't really think is true—I'm certainly not his type), and then he showed up! I'm sure I was red as a beet, and I really hope he didn't suspect anything. He had a look on his face that I wanted to ask about, but it wasn't really the time.

They left to go on the run. I kinda wanted to go with, but I know I couldn't be much help. Honestly, it's probably because I'm afraid I won't be much help that I don't ask to train with anyone on how to use a gun or defend myself. And maybe it might be, too, what Daryl pointed out. I guess he's right—I was kinda acting and feeling like I'm already dead, like it's my defined destiny to get finished off before all this ends.

I wonder what Daryl thinks about that keeps him going? He lost his brother, but he still fights tooth and nail to stay alive. I really wish I knew that about him... It might inspire me on what I need to think about and do to get through this, too."

Right as her thoughts were about to get the better of her, Patrick's groans brought her attention back to reality. Going back to check on him, she felt his fever spike. He was perspiring excessively, and Beth began to feel a sense of panic. Lizzie stood at the doorway, peering inward, and Beth glanced back at her.

"Hey, Lizzie, can you do me a favor?" she asked, smiling in an attempt to not show her worry.

"Is he getting worse?" she asked blankly as though ignoring the question.

"Well, I think he needs some ice, but we don't really have that, so would you stay here and take charge for me while I go ask my dad what I need to do?" Beth asked quietly.

With barely a nod for a response, Beth felt a little uneasy leaving the others in her care, but it was an emergency. She had to go.

Once she made the other children aware of the situation, she took off down the hallway towards the section her father was staying in with Judith on her hip—she had her head covered to keep her from breathing in the contaminated air. Carol stopped her when she noticed her passing to ask what was wrong.

"Well, Patrick seems to be getting worse, so I was going to go see what Daddy would advise," she explained curtly as she looked around anxiously.

Carol placed her hands on Beth's shoulders to calm her momentarily and spoke, "Hey, come with me and we'll get him some water that I put in a cool portion of the prison. It's made some of the others feel better, so it might help him, too."

Relief flooded her as someone else took charge of the situation and led her through the prison.

"Here it is," Carol mumbled as she poured out some of the liquid contents into a cup. "Let's see if this helps, shall we?"

Nodding, Beth accepted the cup, passing her Judith, and rushed as quickly as she could without spilling to get back to the children's quarantine area. Her eyebrows knit together and her steps slowed while her heartbeat increased when she heard a few muffled noises. She set the cup down and ran to the room, swinging wide open the door to see all the children in a frenzy.

"What's going on?!" she asked in alarm.

"It's Lizzie!" a few said.

"She's locked the room!" another one stated.

"We heard her scream, and she called for help, but I can't open it," her little sister, Mika, sobbed.

"It's okay," Beth said, quickly shuffling the children to the hallway. "You stay out here with Carol, okay?"

She closed the door behind them to a confused Carol, and she went to her drawer and pulled out a knife that she had kept handy. She really hadn't expected to use it, but she was glad that she'd had the mind to bring it with her from her room.

Her heartbeat raced as she lunged toward the other room and called out, "Lizzie? Can you hear me?"

"It's okay," Lizzie stated calmly. "Patrick is fine now."

Loosening her grip a little on the knife, Beth tilted her head curiously. She wanted to ask what the girl meant, but she didn't feel like now was the time.

"Well, I brought him some water, so can I come in?" she inquired.

After several moments, she heard a hand on the doorknob, but it sounded like it dropped after.

"I don't think he needs it," the girl replied.

Turning away with a bite to her lip, she heard Carol call out, "Beth, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, Lizzie and I are just talking," she answered with a tone insinuating not to enter, turning her attention back to the locked door. "I just want to make sure he's okay. Can I see him?"

"You have to promise you won't do anything," the girl demanded after a lengthy pause.

"It's just for water," Beth replied right away before hearing a faint groan in the background.

She had an unsettled feeling in her stomach, but she rushed in as soon as the door was opened.

"You promised you wouldn't do anything!" Lizzie reminded, staring disapprovingly at the knife in Beth's hand.

Her heart fell to her stomach. There was no mistaking it—blood trailed from his eyes and from the edges of his mouth, and his eyes were the same soulless eyes that all the others shared. All the other walking dead. Nodding eventually in confirmation of the girl's words, she turned to her and smiled.

"It's okay. Looks like you tied him up to the bed—why?" she asked conversationally.

"Well, he got a little too excited," Lizzie grimaced, holding out her arm. "See?"

Horrified, Beth kept herself from covering her mouth or displaying her emotions on her face. By the teeth marks embedded in her flesh, she knew that it was only minutes, if that, before Lizzie would turn into one of them as well.

"It's okay!" Lizzie smiled. "I know he didn't mean to hurt me. We're friends. And soon, we'll be the same."

Her hands fell limply to her sides, shaking a little, as she took in the girl's words and true meaning. Tears sprung to her eyes and, slowly, she nodded and smiled, coming up and petting the girl's hair while she held the knife in her hand behind her back. Clearly, the girl had a mental breakdown with the reality of her situation and now suffered with the idea that the walkers were actually good people deep down. It was, actually, quite similar to how she and her family had kept the walkers of their dead family members and friends. Carl had told her about Lizzie's habit of naming walkers and her evident fascination with them, but she had never pictured such a result.

"Yeah, that's true," she said, wanting to comfort the girl in her last moments. "Oh, Lizzie, you and Patrick will get to hang out all the time very soon."

It took every ounce of strength she had to try to sound cheerful for the girl and not just crumble into a sobbing mess.

"I know! We'll have so much fun, and we'll hang out with everyone else," she exclaimed, seeming happy to have her thoughts validated. "I didn't think anyone else would understand."

"No, I understand, it's okay," she almost whispered, continuing to pet the girl's hair as she watched her spasm a little.

It seemed the effects were already kicking in. The girl gave a last smile before she lost consciousness.

Hands still shaking, Beth stared at the girl's limp form. She knew that only moments would pass before she would reanimate and attack her, and her heart felt like it would burst. The child who only that morning was there playing with her sister was now lying lifeless on the floor. Tears fell down from her open eyes as she knelt down, petting her hair one last time before she held her head gently with that same hand and came down with her knife in the other.

Her heart broke as soon as she felt the plunge into flesh. She ripped out her knife with a cry and shook for a moment before shucking off the girl's body. Patrick's inhuman eyes were fixated on her and the flesh at her feet, and he was biting at the air while yanking on his bindings. He was only suspended by a simple tie from some string that the children had to play with—upon realizing how weak the string was, Beth shot up. She was in more danger than she had realized, and she had allowed her emotions to get to her.

Shaking them off and allowing herself to take on a new identity, she stared back at the creature with hardened features and approached it carefully. Fear crept into her slightly as she analyzed her situation. Her knife was really short, the strings could come loose or break at any moment, and his animated body was erratically biting at her.

No. She would not allow fear to envelop her any longer.

Racing at the figure, she swept up from under and plunged the knife from under the chin up through the throat to where she estimated the brain to be. Thankfully, her knife reached its target, evidenced by his form falling limp.

Wiping the blood from her knife on his shirt, she stared at it. In its reflection, she saw a completely different person—strong, fierce, and no longer afraid.

At the sound of his body hitting the floor, Carol came crashing in to see what was going on. Upon viewing the scene, she turned back to the children and commanded them to stay out in the hall.

"What... what happened, Beth?" she asked, looking between the bodies and the girl admiring herself in the knife.

When she turned to face Carol, her image faltered a little, but her jaw clamped shut.

"Lizzie wanted to be like them. Patrick passed while we were gone—he had blood from his eyes and mouth. I think the sickness is more serious than we thought... He bit Lizzie," she explained, glancing at the girl's body.

A single tear fell down, but she swore inwardly that that would be the last.

"Dear diary, I did something I didn't think I would or could ever do today.

I put down two of our children.

I did.

They're gone. They had turned...

Part of me died inside, but I think it might have been that weak part of me. Although I'm still shaken, I feel stronger. I feel different. I'm not just the babysitter any more... I'm a defender, and a killer. I can be strong, too."


	4. Caught Up

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

I hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter! It was a plot twist that came to me suddenly that I just had to write down. As I said, I'm doing everything that I do in the story to set up the characters how I want them to be. If you don't like it, want to see another change, or if you genuinely like what I'm doing, feel free to say so in a review. I'm game for any comments! Enjoy!

"**F**rom what I've heard, no one told Daddy what happened to Lizzie or Patrick or what I did—he's getting worse and worse, and it's taking them a long time to get back from that run. Glenn's in as bad or worse condition, too. I heard a couple people have turned, so some of the sick are panicking or just giving up. It's good, then, that even the sick children are kept in here, because I refuse to let any of them be plagued by those feelings. I keep telling them they'll feel better soon and that, when the medicine gets here, they'll get well right away.

Mika's taken it really rough, so she's been sleeping with me at night; the other children were quite a bit freaked out, but none of them were that close to Lizzie—more so to Patrick.

Supposedly, they should be back by today or tomorrow; but anyone who's waited for someone from a run or been on one knows that anything can happen during the run to procrastinate or, God forbid, indefinitely prevent their return.

I still feel kind of numb. Though I don't particularly mind one way or another, no one wants to talk to me about what I did besides Carol; but she was there and knows there's really nothing else to say. She still asks occasionally if I'm good from that. Most people here have had to put down a walker or more that they've known, anyway, so it's just, I guess, expected practice. They have been looking at me a little differently, though—like I'm someone else. It's weird.

Funny how my worries just days before were about what Daryl thought of me."

Setting away her diary, she turned over and pet Mika's face. Fortunately, she wasn't running a fever—it looked like over half the children would stay well. To keep from waking the girl, she sat up slowly and went over to the baby. It was almost feeding time, so she went ahead to prepare it while the children were still sleeping.

"Good morning," Carol called out to her as she dipped out a couple bowls.

"Morning," she replied somewhat stiffly.

Before she could finish preparing the formula, Carol pushed the bottle she held down to the counter and handed her a bowl.

"Let's have some adult time before the kids wake up," she suggested with a smile.

Beth spared a glance at the bottle before she gave a curt nod and followed Carol out to the dining area. When they were seated, her gaze settled off in the distance. She hadn't really felt like herself since the incident. The most words she could get out were on paper—it wasn't that she couldn't talk or didn't want to, it just didn't seem necessary to. She had nothing to say.

"Beth," Carol called her name tentatively, watching her eyes shift to look at her. "You haven't really..." her eyes squinted before she continued, "...been yourself. I know this is hard for you, but if you need to speak your mind and get it off your chest, you can talk to me."

Beth nodded again, but, feeling it was a little rude to not say something in response, she added, "I know you're there for me. Thanks, Carol; I'm fine, though."

She turned her attention to her food and shoveled it in. Most of the food they had was tasteless, but it seemed especially bland today. Her eyes wandered around the room before meeting Carol's concerned face again.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked.

"Yeah. I had to do it," she replied without batting an eyelid.

With a gentle bob of her head, Carol grimaced slightly and said, "I know you did. You're a strong girl."

"So I can handle it. It's fine," she said as she downed the last bite. "Really, don't worry about it."

She took her bowl with her to clean it before she disappeared again with the mixed formula for Judith.

Her morning was filled with cuddling the children who were begging to see their parents or mourning over their lost ones—it seemed like her changed attitude had affected them as well, but she was trying her best to at least act for them. In the afternoon, Mika came up to her and cuddled in her lap to get her hair brushed.

"Miss Beth?" she voiced sweetly but shyly.

"Hm?" she responded, thinking a little of Daryl with her similarly wordless reply.

"You don't talk much any more," she mumbled softly as though worried about voicing her thoughts.

"No... I know, I'm sorry," she said.

She wasn't sure what to tell the girl; she couldn't help herself, really. Her thoughts began to stray when she noticed the girl was staring right at her.

"I miss you," she said meekly before hugging her. "Almost as much as I miss Lizzie."

Her words stirred emotion in her again, and her brows lowered in consternation. The girl parted from her with a charming little smile before she rejoined with the other children to play. Even though she was here with them, was she really "here"?

Hugging herself, she felt the goosebumps that had formed without her notice. Rather than going to her diary, she leaned over to lay across the bed in a mangled ball shape and cornered her thoughts of what she did compared to how she acted afterward in her mind.

The only problem she had was this: were her thoughts cornering her instead?

Later in the day, she had heard some people outside her door, seemingly running back and forth. Curiosity almost got the better of her to leave, but she instead just sat up and kicked her legs a little off the side of the makeshift bed she and Mika had been sleeping in. If the others were back from the run, she would need to stay to let them know which children to give the medicine to first; if some of the others had turned, then she would only get in the way.

Thinking on that last part, she reconsidered—now, she had already put walkers she knew down. It wouldn't be any different, really, except that she wouldn't have heard their last words. Still, for the first reason she came up with, she knew she couldn't leave the area, so she resigned herself to sitting there for the time being.

When there was a knock on the door, she approached and opened it to see Carol again. She let the air remain silent between them, not caring if it would change or not.

"They're back. Which ones need the medicine first?" she asked after a pause.

"I'll show you," Beth answered.

As they strode into the room, Beth pointed to the far room and then waved her hand all the way to the front. It wasn't really that hard, honestly—the ones that got sick first were the ones in the worst condition, and they were the ones put the farthest away initially.

Nodding, Carol mentioned, "Well, I'll stay here and let them know. You should go see your sister since she's back."

She glanced down at the floor. She really hadn't wanted to meet her family just yet. She needed to fix herself first, make herself act the same as always. Sensing her reticence, Carol pushed her gently to go and nodded at her when she glanced behind herself.

Despite what she felt, or didn't feel, it seemed like she would be forced to face them now. When she was suicidal, her sister forced her to face a barrage of questions, and she now had that to look forward to all over again. When she had almost reached the entrance to the prison, a thought came to her mind that was more pressing, however; it was time to feed Judith again, and it had slipped her mind.

As she walked back, she heard arguing coming from the area she had been in. Slowly, she came up to the room to hear that the voices were coming from inside it. Her face showed she was perplexed.

"—father doesn't know?" she overheard part of what the voice asked.

"There _is_ a good reason he doesn't know: he's deathly sick. Who knows how it would affect him!" Carol answered.

Now, she was definitely curious. Were they arguing over what happened in there?

"And you think when he gets better he's gonna be thrilled to see his little girl like that?" an unmistakable masculine voice retorted.

Huffing, she responded, "She's a strong girl, Daryl. She's not losing it; she just needs time."

"Bullshit," he hissed as he opened the door.

Her widened eyes met his own agitated ones, and he grabbed her shoulder to keep her from running off.

"You—outside. By the fence. Just stay there," he commanded, shooting one last glare at Carol before he stalked off.

Unsure why he said that or what she was supposed to do once she was there, she robotically carried out his orders, passing by bustling people who were excited about the influx of medication and hardly seemed to notice her as she went by.

Finding a way to occupy herself outdoors, she sat down and began to weave some grass together before she looked up at the fence. Some walkers were gathered there, gawking at her with mouths ajar, and she forced herself to look away.

Maybe she just needed to stay out of the way? While she was mentally occupied and responding infrequently, it probably was just better for her to stay outside anyway. She lay down and looked up at the sky, finding herself being lulled into a sleeping state.

When she woke up, she felt sleepy still as she sat up and glanced around. It was later in the evening now—almost sunset. She felt angry at herself for having fallen asleep at a time like this. Then again, she was banished to stay outside anyway. Returning to her occupation of grass-knitting, she sighed heavily.

"Been sleepin' all right?" a voice questioned her.

She knew who the voice belonged to, but she was still startled. Had he seen her sleeping?

"Here and there. Kids keep me up," she answered blankly.

"Which ones?" he asked, his meaning clear by his words.

She felt her heart clench tightly, and she grabbed her shirt reflexively at her chest. He knew. It was obvious what he and Carol were talking about before, but now she knew for sure.

"I saw you walkin' around earlier all dead-like," he mumbled.

That was probably why he went to see Carol in the first place. She hadn't even noticed him pass her earlier.

He took a seat next to her and awkwardly fidgeted with his crossbow and the ends of his pants a little. A tiny smirk reached her features at his childlike actions. He was so grown and yet sometimes seemed just like the little ones she had to watch. When he glanced at her, though, she was reminded of the situation at hand and looked away at the walkers by the fence again.

"I shouldn't have left," she whispered.

Turning his head to her a little, Daryl let out a breath.

"Blamin' yerself?" he asked while gazing back out at the fences and throwing a pebble he'd found on the ground.

"Yes...and no. Lizzie wanted it... maybe it would've happened eventually anyway. She was... so far gone," she answered truthfully. After a lengthy time, she added, "I would do it again. She needed me at the end."

Her voice cracked a little as she spoke. Daryl reached up a little towards her but shot his hand back to his crossbow and grimaced. It seemed like he felt uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"Hey, um... I don't have to talk about it," she said slowly, almost pausing between each word, before she felt herself being pulled over.

"S'hard the first time, but...it gets easier," he muttered quietly as he cleared his throat.

She could have sworn she saw a blush creep onto his face as he held her in a sideways hug, and she smiled to herself. This was the first embarrassing moment she had on Daryl Dixon. There were plenty left to go if she ever wanted to be even with him.

"Thanks, Daryl," she said, relief seeming to flood through her, and she took advantage of the moment to bring her arm across him and hold him at his shoulder, hugging him softly. She didn't even realize that she had called him by his first name.

He seemed stunned by her actions and somewhat opposed, and she almost pulled back before he touched her arm with his other hand. She snuggled her cheek into his chest and closed her eyes.

"I thought I was stronger just because I could do it...you know?" she admitted.

He paused, per usual Daryl conversation but longer, and said, "Ya get there. You ain't strong if you just act like ya don't care."

His legs were fidgeting a little, and she could tell he was almost at his limit, so she drew back and looked into his eyes.

"Thanks for talkin' to me. I really do feel better," she said with a genuine smile, which he returned what he could muster of one. "I'm so glad you made it back."

He stood up and turned away from her as he cleared his throat. She could see the tip of his ear turning red and smiled.

"'M tired," he said before he walked rather quickly away.

She watched his retreating form in the light of the sun's setting as her thoughts seemed to finally come together.

"Dear diary, Daryl banished me outside today—the group from the run came back with medicine for the sick, and I was still kind of stuck in my indifferent attitude. He was upset over Daddy not hearing about what happened with me, and he kind of took it out on Carol. I'll tell him later that she really tried her best to help. I didn't at the time 'cause I got caught up in the events of today... Let's just say... If it wasn't certain before, it is now: I'm falling for Daryl Dixon."


	5. Symbiosis

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Honestly, guys, I'm getting excited by writing this story. Even I want to know what happens next, because I just find new things every hour, it seems, that I want to incorporate in the story. Thank you for your reviews! I don't think I'm going to let this story off very soon. I have so many ideas for it, and I don't know when I want it to end, so if there's anything you want to see, I'll take every thought into consideration! Thank you for letting me know your opinions as well already. I have a poll on my profile if you want to take that also. Please enjoy! Side note: I sort of censor the "F" word, so when you see it, I mean to type it that way. I feel odd seeing it spelled out in literary works...my OCD (and I don't quite want to change the rating, but it's typical Daryl speech).

"**I'm** back in my old "room" (cell) again, and Carol's helping to nurse back the sick children to health. She seems to genuinely enjoy doing it; almost seems like she would have preferred to watch them from the start. I still play back what happened in my mind with Lizzie and Patrick, but it doesn't hurt as much. I know there's a reason for everything, even though I don't quite understand it all.

Speaking of Carol, I caught Daryl when he woke up just to tell him that she really did try and it wasn't her fault. He looked a little sheepish about it and just nodded. I dunno if he'll say anything to her or not, but I can't really blame him for how he acted, either. I can't imagine any of them got to sleep much while they were out getting the medicine, and he hadn't slept much before then, either, so I'm sure that made them all irritable as it was. I'm glad he slept the whole night and most of the morning, even though he was really... uh... pissed... when he woke up. He was complaining about wasted time and such—that's what Maggie told me.

Oh, and Daddy and Glenn are on the way to recovery. Apparently, Glenn got so sick that he almost turned. Everyone got a real fright from that, especially Maggie. She still seems a bit shaken from that. What with that going on, I nor anyone else have told her what I did still. I'm sure it'll come out eventually, though.

But... Ever since Daryl talked with me, I've felt fine—better than I did before this. I do feel like I can handle myself now and that I'm not doomed to die. Maybe that's why this happened?"

She smiled as she turned over to find Mika there with her. Even after the healthy children stopped being sequestered, Mika begged to be with Beth—partly because she was used to it, but also because her father didn't show signs of recovery. Even though he had received the medication, he still wasn't responding well. Everyone was doing what they could for the sick, so it was hard to watch those who weren't recovering like the rest.

Apparently, Rick tried to make Daryl sit the day out and just relax, but when she saw him in the library, he was going stir crazy.

"Hey," she said to him and startled him, evidenced by his jerked movement to face her. "I'm sorry."

He stared at her for a moment and just grunted a little in acknowledgment of what she said, but he turned back to a shelf to scan through the somewhat ratty books they had obtained so far to keep there.

"Um..." she started and almost lost her will to say it, but she pressed herself forward. "Can you help me get better?"

Looking at her in confusion was his reply for a moment before he grabbed a book, the action making him seem disinterested in what she had to say. She nibbled her lip and looked down and away.

"What're you askin' for?" he asked as he thumbed through a couple pages.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she realized she didn't specify what she was referring to. "I mean, to shoot and stuff—to handle myself around the walkers better."

His eyes trailed from the page to her face, and he looked down, nervousness evident on his face. She tilted her head curiously, wondering what he was thinking about.

"What..." he stopped, then pointed to the page again. "What does this mean?"

When she looked at where his finger was pointing, her heart suddenly felt like it fell from her chest. She snatched the book from him and read the word in context, making it seem like she wasn't sure what it meant either.

"Let's see..." she started. "Well, from what it says in the sentence, I would say 'elucidate' means to explain somethin'."

He nodded as he averted his eyes from her.

"Like... I'd like for you to elucidate further on how to shoot a gun," she said with a smile.

Glancing away, he allowed himself a small smirk and a sarcastic-flavored comment as he replied, "Ya sure that's how yer s'posed to pronounce that?"

Flushing, she responded quickly, "Yes, I'm sure!"

He laughed a little and softly tugged her ponytail.

"So you ain't just _sayin'_ that's how it's pronounced; you know it is," he retorted.

The understanding hit her that he knew she was trying to play it off to start with, and she felt her face burn. So now he got to laugh at her expense even though she was trying to be nice about it. Frustration welled up inside her, and she almost walked away when he snagged the book back from her.

"I can teach ya. But it ain't free," he added, giving her a pointed expression. She tilted her head curiously until he held up the book. "Never really bothered learnin' a lotta words before. You teach me, I teach you."

Her eyebrows lifted at the notion, and she coyly snatched the book away from him again.

"That's all you had in mind?" she asked with a contrived innocent look on her face before she turned and walked a few paces.

Hearing the pause, she knew she had flustered him, so she smiled at her small victory.

"What'd ya think I had in mind?" he asked in annoyance.

She was overcome with her new confidence and turned to give him a wink.

"You know," she intimated before she sprinted away.

She had a feeling he would follow her outside, and her cheeks were flushed as she really took in what she said and did. When they were out in the open air, she could have sworn he murmured something under his breath like "f-in' flirt." It had taken him a little while to meet her out by the fence because he had to collect a weapon first.

First, he showed her what she needed to do before she even aimed the gun, and then he assumed a shooting stance so she could emulate it. He held the pistol out to her, and she tried to follow the same steps that he had shown her. He corrected her a few times before she got the steps down, and then she held the weapon up. He tapped her arm and left thigh for her to move them to the correct position, but she still wasn't doing it correctly, so he molded his body in the correct position right against her and forced her to be in the correct stance.

"Now," he whispered against her ear, making her feel jittery inside, "I would say this is how you hold a pistol."

She dropped her stance to look at him reproachfully with his usage of her words just a few minutes before when her heart jumped at his smirk. Frustrated again, she pushed herself off him and picked up the book.

"Read," she instructed as she held it out to him.

He refused to at first, but she commanded him to read again, so he took a deep breath and exhaled before he started to read the words, taking on a tone of annoyance and boredom. It was a slow pace, but he was pronouncing the material fairly well for the level of reading it required. As he went along, she corrected his pronunciation on a few of the words and gave him the meaning of words he didn't understand, and he actually seemed to get an interest in what he was reading.

"You said you never bothered learning words before," Beth pointed out disbelievingly.

"High school drop-out," he mumbled, a little abashed.

Looking down for a moment, she smiled to herself. Before he could get angry about her smile, she stated, "Me, too," with a giggle.

He couldn't help but return a small chuckle as he ruffled her hair a bit.

"Yer stupid," he stated in amusement.

"So are you," she said as she stuck her tongue out at him, and they both shared a small laugh.

He helped her with the gun again, hardly needing to correct her stance this time, and showed her how she needed to take aim. The gun wasn't loaded, but she seemed to be a lot better than the first time she held a gun. She felt confident that, if there were bullets inside, she would have been able to take out some of the zombies at the fence like that.

"Hey," she remarked suddenly. "What made you want to read so much?"

He looked at her as he readjusted his crossbow to his shoulder since they were just about to wrap up things for the day. Grinning, she asked "what" again before he actually responded to her.

"Well," he started, "I'm pretty sure that li'l book you write in all the time, that diary, is filled with all sorts of li'l flowery words. Can't read it if I don't know what yer sayin'."

At first, she took him seriously with his bold words and poker face, and her face flushed to an awful crimson color until he let out a little chuckle, and she punched his arm.

"That's not funny! I'm being serious," she laughed despite her words.

Laughing at her still, he looked off in the distance.

"Ma used to read to me when I was real little. Guess I kinda wanted to learn for myself," he stated absently.

Her mouth formed a little "oh" and she fell silent, a sympathetic look adorning her face.

"Whatchoo lookin' all mopey for?" he asked, grabbing her cheeks between his fingers and thumb to push her lips out to look like a fish. "Tha's better."

She slapped his hand away and laughed as he did, then pushed him.

"Why are you always pickin' on me?" she complained, staring up at him with a pout on her face.

"Can't help it when ya look at me like that," he smirked and turned to walk away, taking his and the training weapon away with him.

"What...?" she asked incredulously before she trailed after him. With no reply from him, she added, "I'll help put the gun away!"

She grabbed it away from him with a smile and followed him to the weapons room.

"Dear diary, I learned some new things today. I learned how to hold a pistol and how to aim one, even though I still haven't shot it. I also learned that Daryl wants to read better and learn bigger words! I've overhead people saying they think he's dumb since he doesn't talk much or use big words, but I found out he's actually really smart—he picks up on things quickly, even though he's kind of an ass about it. But he does it all for the fun of it.

He really likes to pick on me, and I wish he would stop it! But he did train me today, so I guess I should thank him for that. Then again, I did help him, too, so maybe not?"

"Oh, Daryl showed you how to shoot?" a voice called over her shoulder, startling her and causing her to fling the book away.

"What the... Maggie!" she yelled.

Her sister giggled at her and commented, "Your face is all red. Oooh... Tsk-tsk. Someone's crushing on Darrryyyllll."

"Whatever," Beth muttered angrily and turned away.

"What? Not denyin' it?" Maggie asked, astonished, and made her scoot over so she could sit down too. "You know some people wouldn't approve of that."

Beth then got up and sat cross-legged, picking at the ends of her hair before responding, "I know. It's not like Daryl likes me, though, so nothin's gonna come of it anyway."

Her sister snorted as she giggled and pinched her cheek.

"Come on, Beth, you ain't blind. You even wrote that he's pickin' on you. Who all have you seen Daryl get that familiar with?" she asked.

"L... Lots of people," Beth retorted as she moved away from her sister's hand.

"Puh-leeeaz, Beth. But what do you think Daddy'll say? I reckon he ain't gonna like this," she said with arched eyebrows.

"I won't like what?" the familiar voice of her father, Hershel, asked from her doorway.

Making a stretched grimacing face, Maggie mouthed "sorry" before she got up and hugged her father and left the room. Beth looked away from her father, not really wanting to answer, and he walked up to her and pat her on the shoulder.

"You know, Beth," he began, "I've heard about what happened."

Her eyes widened in surprise as she ran through the many things he could be talking about.

"How you took care of that situation with the little boy and girl. I know it must've been real hard for you," he began. "I know I was sick and there was a lot going on, but you should've told me."

Feeling relieved, she looked down and nodded solemnly.

"I know, Daddy—I'm awful sorry," she gave him her doe-eyed look with her icy blues, and he couldn't help but smile and pull her into a hug.

"It's all right. But I've heard somethin' else, too," he added, causing her stomach to flip.

"What?" she asked innocently.

Sighing, he turned his gaze to the other side of the room.

"You know, when someone loses people they're close to or they go through a traumatizing event, they tend to reach out to someone else for comfort," his lecture started, and she felt like she was going to die. "It's easy to get caught up in emotions, especially in a world like this, but I want you to be careful." As he advised her, he gave her his Hershel fatherly stare. "You understand?"

Nodding with a face redder than a cherry, Beth wanted to completely disappear. It was clearly evident that her father didn't approve of her affection for Daryl Dixon; it seemed mainly because he thought she didn't really hold genuine affection for him but just wanted attention.

"He's just showin' me how to shoot, and I'm helpin' him read," she almost whispered.

"As long as that's how it stays," he admonished with raised eyebrows, squeezing her shoulder and then hugging her. "Daryl's a good man from what I know of him, but you have some things you need to work through right now. Take some time for yourself. I love you, Bethy."

"Love you, too, Daddy," she said with a lead heart.

"Daddy doesn't want me to be with Daryl, and I think it's because he thinks I don't really like him—that I'm just looking for comfort from what I've been through. His word holds about as much weight as Daryl's does around here, and I don't want to cause a rift in our prison by disobeying him. I mean, we're just holding on by a thread as is. I guess I should stop flirting with Daryl like I have been...but I don't know if I can, diary."


	6. Following Orders?

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

I will tell you now that this is a long chapter! It's almost 1k words longer than my usual files, so I'm sorry about that—I just couldn't end it with where it was leading to. I want her to write in her diary at least once per chapter, so it wouldn't have worked if I broke this up. Some interesting developments are in this chapter. Hope you like them! Thank you, everyone, for your reviews and for reading my story. Oh, and thanks to ciprianoivashkov for a second review! I'm glad to hear you like my story so much!

"**W**hile I was nursing my heart pain, I found myself soon having to help someone else nurse theirs. Apparently, Mika's father passed away just a few minutes before I'd had my conversation with Daddy. She came in soon after, bawling, and Carol watched over her at the door for a while. Once she calmed down and fell asleep, I moved her more comfortably atop my bed and talked to Carol about what happened, and she told me about his passing as well as her new-found guardianship of the girl.

Part of me felt a little jealous, honestly; I love Mika as if she were my own, but I can't have all the children here. But Carol did tell me if something happened to her (although she promised to keep herself alive for Mika), she wanted me to take care of her. So I guess it's okay with me to be Mika's godmother. I'm not really old enough to raise her right now anyway.

Today, it's my turn to take care of Judith again, and I'm kind of happy to have the little squirt back. Even though she can be a pain sometimes (since she is still a baby), she really does brighten my day.

But I guess today starts my avoidance of Daryl, too... I don't know how this is supposed to work..."

Beth's eyes opened slowly. Massaging the area over her heart with her hand, she sighed and glanced around the room. She had already fed Judith, but she was getting fussy. Mika, despite her objections, was rooming with Carol now, and she only gave in due to Beth's reminding her of her late father's wishes.

When she went for her own breakfast with Judith on her hip, she caught Daryl's eye, but she noticed that he averted his gaze also. Her eyebrows came close together in thought when Judith spat up on her shirt.

"Ugh!" she groaned, setting her bowl down and going back to her room.

She hadn't even had the chance to eat one bite before she had to get changed, and now Judith was crying. She kept trying to hush her, making faces and singing in intervals as she got changed and redid her hair, but the child would not be comforted.

"Oh, come on, Judith, I know you're upset, but please," she gently begged the child, feeling a headache coming on.

She heard a small rap next to her cell door, and she said a quick "come in" as she fixed her shirt properly.

"Left this," the person said upon entry.

It was Rick holding the bowl she'd left in the dining room.

"Oh—I'm sorry," she apologized, grabbing it and placing it on top of her drawer before going to pick up Judith.

She stopped when she saw Rick doing so instead and smiled to see the joy he had on his face, even at her temper tantrum—which, now that he was holding her, was of course subsiding.

"Nah, I'm sorry I always leave you or someone else to takin' care of her," he said genuinely, rocking his little girl and making faces at her. "I'm glad she still knows who I am."

Beth smiled and let out a soft breath.

"Of course she knows who you are. You're only the second-best dad here," she winked.

Smiling back at her, he answered, "Oh, right, of course. Can't take Hershel's place, I know. I'm workin' on it, though."

She laughed at his playing along with her before silence took over again, Judith's happy gurgling noises the only sound in the room.

"Hey, you should eat up before it gets colder. Oh," he added before he left, "and Daryl mentioned somethin' about training out by the fence?"

Her eyes widened and she nodded fervently, grabbing her bowl to down it. Rick's laughter followed as he told her to take her time, and he retreated from the room with baby Judith. Beth couldn't be more thankful for Rick right then.

When she was about to wash her dish, one of the other women there, Sasha, volunteered to take it for her.

"I heard your presence is wanted elsewhere," she said with a knowing smile.

Beth shrugged a little with a smile and thanked her, taking her leave.

She smiled once she saw Daryl's figure out there turned out toward the fence, standing with his trusty crossbow. Her heart raced in her chest, but her smile slowly faded to a frown when she thought of the conversation she had had the previous night.

"Hey, Daryl," she said without the usual enthusiasm.

He barely nodded his head in acknowledgment and held the same weapon from the day before out to his side for her to take without bothering to turn his head. She gingerly grasped it and jumped back when her fingers touched his.

"Sorry," she said softly.

He nodded again and glanced at her before indicating with his head to face the fence and take her stance. He made a few minor corrections and pointed for her to aim. Then, he gave her a few verbal instructions to actually take the shot, and he told her to brace herself.

Even though he had warned her and she followed his instructions, she still wasn't quite ready for the recoil that the weapon had, and she felt herself being pushed back slightly into Daryl's open palms. She closed her eyes to try not to think about it, but a blush was strewn across her face, and she felt herself being pushed back into place. She lifted her arms into position, then lowered them, and again before she dropped her weapon arm and turned to Daryl.

"I don't—" she started, getting cut off.

"Again," he ordered.

She sighed and turned back to the fence irritably and aimed for a walker's head. When she shot this time, she was ready for it, but she again felt Daryl's palms touching her arms. Her heart throbbed sorely at his touch, and she felt a little dizzy, not even noticing that the walker she had aimed for dropped. She shivered, and he gently closed his hands over her arms.

"Cold?" he asked simply, but his breath touching her ear forced a little color to her cheeks again.

She bit her lip and shook her head "no," and she could see in her peripherals that his head was moving up and down slightly.

"Yer daddy told me to stay away from ya," he said as he twisted a small strand of her hair between his fingers. "Y'know that?"

Her body shivered and she turned her face toward him a little, but he used his fingers to tilt her head forward again.

"Keep practicin'," he said, taking a few steps back from her.

It had to be obvious now to him the kind of power he had over her, and she felt a little weak in the knees. Still, two could play that game. She sent another three shots off, the only three in the barrel, and two out of the three walkers she aimed for were subsequently felled. She smirked back at him and placed the pistol on the ground, making sure that as she bent, he could see the small gap at the top of her shirt before she straightened up and forced the book into his hands.

Honestly, she had never felt such a rebellious spirit inside herself before, but her father's restrictive directions paired with the shock of a simple touch from her restriction, Daryl, made for a bad combination. She felt naughty, and she wanted to be.

As he read through the next chapter of the book, she nibbled on her lip, and when she caught him looking up at her, he would stutter over that word, and she would touch his shoulder and lean up to see which word it was and help him with it. After the second time of this, he turned his head and exhaled audibly in frustration.

"What's wrong, Daryl?" she asked, forcing that same falsely-innocent look on her face that she had before.

"Can't concentrate," he murmured, closing the book, and started to walk away.

She reached out and grabbed his sleeve as she repeated what he had told her, "Keep practicin'."

His eyes met hers, and he smirked and shook his head slowly. He waved his index finger in her direction before he went to grab the pistol from the ground.

"You...are gonna get yerself in a world of trouble," he warned.

Smiling, she looked away and responded, "I know."

He snorted with a smirk on his face.

"Ya needa listen to yer daddy," he said as he went his way. "Ain't no reason for ya to get all worked up."

"You, either," she stated defiantly.

Turning to face her again, his expression took on a grave look.

"Beth. I ain't gonna go against Hershel. His word means a lot to the group—to me," he chided.

Maybe she had misinterpreted the signs, but it seemed like he had been flirting with her, too. And now there he was scolding her over doing the same thing he was.

"Ya needa ask your sister to help ya. This ain't happenin' again," he stated with certainty.

"What? Nothin' even happened!" Beth complained.

"Don't fight me on this. It's done," Daryl replied as he strode quickly to the weapons room to put away the pistol.

"You're the one that agreed to this," she continued regardless, following him.

"All I said was I wouldn't train ya for free. That don't mean forever. Drop it," he said finally.

She felt crushed, and her cheeks burned crimson.

"Fine. I _will_ get someone else to train me," she stubbornly replied.

With her last words, she stormed off to her room. Thinking back on her brash actions, she felt ashamed and held her hands to her face. She had let her emotions run rampant, and she even showed her anger towards Daryl when it wasn't his fault. She was such a child. Maybe she did need that time to sort out her issues like her father was saying.

"Whoa," a voice said, and she looked up to see Rick Grimes grimacing and exiting the room slowly backwards.

"Oh, hey, Rick! It's just a headache. What is it?" she asked in a hushed tone, allowing herself to lie.

"Sorry, Beth. I was just gonna lay Judith back down for a bit. Is somethin' wrong?" he asked.

Turning her head away a little, she thought of something to say. Their conversation continued quietly due to the slumbering child.

"Well, Daryl doesn't want to train me any more... I think I'm too frustrating for him. Would you be able to help me?" she asked, but then added, "I'm sorry; I know you're too busy. Forget about it."

"No, no, no—not too busy. I'm here to help," he said with a smile. "How about tomorrow afternoon? I got some time around then."

He tenderly placed the precious bundle into her little crib and stroked her cheek fondly before turning back to Beth.

"Why the sudden interest?" he asked.

She bit her lip and looked down before saying, "Can I tell you tomorrow?"

He nodded and smiled at her before excusing himself, bidding her a good rest of her day. She was surprised that Rick didn't know about the situation—she thought that he was already informed.

That next afternoon took the longest time to come around for her, but when it did, she felt excitement bubbling up in her stomach. Even if it wasn't Daryl teaching her, she was still thrilled to learn something new.

When she met up with Rick, he plopped his sheriff hat on her head, explaining that Carl had forgotten it and would probably come by soon to look for it. She smiled, almost forgetting that she was supposed to tell him about what happened, until he handed her a rifle.

"You were trainin' with a pistol, right? I think you've used one of these before, too, but it's been a while," Rick said, showing her how she was supposed to hold it as opposed to the pistol.

She took a lot more quickly to the rifle training, hitting even closer to her intended target than she did with the smaller weapon, but her shoulder definitely didn't appreciate the kick as much.

"Daryl did a pretty good job training you, or you've just got a good eye. Maybe both," Rick praised and tapped her arm.

She smiled up at him and laid down the weapon before she sighed softly. He gave her a strange look before she "spilled the beans" about why she wanted to train so badly. He covered his mouth and looked out to the sky once she got to the part of Lizzie having been bitten and closed his eyes when she relayed how she put them each down. It took a while for him to say something, but he looked sympathetically at her when he did.

"I'm sorry, Beth. I knew they had turned, but I didn't know how or what happened. I should've asked about it. Does anyone else know besides Carol?" he asked.

She shrugged and looked down as she muttered, "Daryl, and I guess Daddy found out, too. That means some other people have to know."

He nodded and held his arms out for a hug, which she gratefully accepted. It wasn't that hard on her to think about any more, but she felt like she relived it every time she had to tell the story again. She closed her eyes and let herself be comforted until she heard a voice behind her.

"So that's where my hat went! Thief," Carl teased as Beth turned around and passed it to him.

She winked and replied, "I didn't think you'd catch me, sheriff."

Giggling, she tweaked his hat up a little as he replied, "A good sheriff will always catch the bad guy. Er... girl."

A mirthful laugh escaped her and she hugged him randomly, causing him to squirm. She couldn't help it, though—he'd given her a good laugh, which she really needed.

"Maybe _I_ just wanted to be the sheriff," she said with a pouting facade.

"You can't be sheriff. You're a girl," Carl stated factually, scrunching his nose.

Grabbing Carl from behind and pulling him into his hold, Rick looked back up at Beth.

"I think she could be. I think she'd make a good sheriff," he said, grinning.

Beth then saw Rick's attention held on something else in the distance, and when she looked in the same direction, she saw Daryl glaring slightly. His eyes turned in her direction for only a second before he turned away. Apparently, he was on watch; but his attention didn't seem to have been on the walkers.

"Did _you_ make Daryl upset?" she asked, perplexed.

"Didn't think I did," he mumbled absently before fixing his gaze on Beth. He shook his head as if dismissing something before he had her pick up the gun again.

Carl was excited about guns being present, so Rick let him hold his gun and take the stance but not shoot. Neither of them shot any more that day, and they finished up practice soon after, Carl making sound effects just to make Beth giggle and get mock-scolded by Rick for laughing, which only elicited more giggling.

She lagged behind a little as they made their way to dinner, and she felt someone's stare aimed at her. Those deep blue eyes she had become familiar with stared towards her, but she shrugged with a slight grimace and continued after the other two.

Daryl Dixon couldn't just tell her to back off and expect her to only hang out with her sister; that wasn't fair.

She sat with Carl and Rick at their request for dinner, and her sister joined across from them with Glenn—he was still recovering, but at least he could walk around now. It felt so nice being around family; they spent hours sitting there just enjoying each other's company. Everyone seemed so happy, and she just let herself go, smiling and giggling over jokes that Rick and Glenn shared back and forth as well as Maggie's spluttering on her drink from almost inhaling it because of her own laughter. Beth made Carl blush when she ruffled his hair and called him cute, and Maggie admonished her about going from one age extreme to the other, causing raised eyebrows from the other two men at the table.

"Wait, Zach wasn't really that old," Glenn started. "Don't tell me... Rick..." he trailed off, eying Rick warily.

"Whoa, not me," Rick laughed, raising his hands as he continued what he thought was a joke.

Beth laughed nervously while her face turned red, and she had just shoveled in some food when Carl suddenly said, "I think it's Daryl."

Beth choked instantaneously, and Rick then patted her on the back and made a face at Glenn who returned the expression. Maggie ducked her head down with the knowledge that she was dead since she had already let her mouth give away the secret once before (although really, Hershel found out otherwise).

"It's true, isn't it?" Carl said nonchalantly, shrugging.

Beth excused herself to finish her coughing fit out in the hallway and to catch her breath. If her face wasn't red from choking, it certainly was from being made the pinnacle of attention—for sure, that news was going to spread now. She fanned herself with her eyes closed and jumped when a voice sounded next to her.

"What's got you all flustered?" Carol asked with her eyebrows lifting in question.

"I choked," she replied, trying to cover herself.

"Mmmm-hmm," Carol hummed, not sounding convinced. She glanced away before turning her attention back to Beth. "A little birdie told me that you were hugging Rick earlier. Don't tell me you got the hots for our resident Sheriff."

"Ohhh," Beth groaned, covering her face and making a few fake sobbing sounds. "I told him 'bout Lizzie and Patrick, so he hugged me 'cause he felt bad."

Smiling in understanding as she looked at the ceiling, Carol nodded back down at her.

"It's all right. It'll wash over, then. At least, amongst the rest of the group. There's a certain someone who isn't taking it lightly, though," she observed. She probably noticed when she brought dinner to the person on watch, who was obviously Daryl.

Sighing, Beth murmured, "I hope it's not my dad again."

"Nope," Carol said, shaking her head. "I think ya know."

Slowly bobbing her head up and down was her reply, and she let out another sigh.

"Daddy told me not to get too close to him, and apparently he told Daryl the same thing, so Daryl told me that our training is done. He says he won't disobey my daddy," she muttered. "But...it seemed like he was leadin' me on."

Carol's brows rose again at the news, and she made a "ch" noise with her tongue. "Sounds like a bigger deal than 'training,'" she said and pressed her lips together.

Beth shielded her face with her hands again and sighed deeply.

"Can't we at least be friends? It's not fair to just call everything off," she stated.

After a moment of thought for how to phrase her words, Carol replied, "Maybe he can't. As far as I've known him, I don't think he's ever had a meaningful relationship. Friendships, yes, like with Rick and them, but I think it's hard for him to be really close to people."

Beth pulled her hair tie out of her hair and fluffed her blonde locks out a little as she pondered what Carol said. He did always seem like he was okay with making friendships with other people, but she hadn't ever seen him involved with anyone else intimately before, either. She probably had more relationships than he did, and she could only speak of two short-lived ones. Literally...

"Do you think he'll talk to me?" she asked softly, not looking at Carol.

The older woman smiled at her and said, "I think you already know the answer yourself." She tapped her shoulder and turned to walk away. "He's still on watch."

Beth strengthened her resolve and went to meet him, walking at a steady pace to the watchtower. When she turned the last corner, her heartbeat increased to see his figure leaning against the wall. It seemed like he hadn't expected company because of the way he was relaxing. As she walked closer, she gasped.


	7. Opposition

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Yes, I did leave it at a cliffhanger. Lol! Who knows what she saw... Well, read on and you'll see in just a moment. This is another long chapter! I keep tweaking things to add subtleties. Thank you for reviewing, and special mention to ciprianoivashkov and SaraiVe for your continued reviews! I hope this chapter wraps up some questions. Oh, yeah—this one is also over 1k words longer than usual. Please, enjoy!

**In** the deep red and purple glow of the sunset, she saw him standing there shirtless, and marks adorned his back that she never knew existed. It looked like he had been using a damp washcloth to wipe down some of the dirt and sweat (and goodness knows what else) from his skin—she never recalled him ever taking his shirt off around anyone before.

"Daryl," she breathed out, letting him know she was there.

He jumped a little, dropping the cloth, when he heard her voice, and he turned to face her as his eyes searched for where he left his shirt. It seemed like he was embarrassed either way to be seen by her without a shirt on, but what she had seen on his back made her heart break once again for him.

"Daryl," she repeated, walking closer to him, tears forming in her eyes.

She gently reached out to touch his arm, but he backed away, turning his face from her while still keeping her in his peripheral vision. Even though he withdrew from her, she refused to back away. In time, he would more than likely say something to her—even if it were to command her to leave.

"Why don't you go hang out witchyer li'l friends? Rather than peepin' on an old man," he finally said, some hostility in his voice. "Maybe finish yer dinner with Rick." She was shocked at his words, and her face showed it. "Yeah, I heard about it."

Her heart hurt a little at the thought of Carol's betrayal, but when she considered Carol going out of her way to stir him up, she didn't think it was likely—and she had been trying to help her, after all. He probably asked her about it, and she obviously couldn't just lie to him; that had to have been the reason she knew he was upset in the first place. After a moment of letting his words and the image of his marred flesh set in, Beth looked down to the ground as a couple of suspended tears over what she had seen finally fell.

"Do ya want me to go?" she asked quietly. When she didn't receive any kind of reply, she tucked her arms in and started talking again, saying, "I love everyone here, y'know? We're a big family is what it feels like. And I do love Rick, of course. I love him and Carl and Carol and Maggie and my daddy—everyone. They're all my family."

Seemingly unmoved by her words, he just stood in that same position—if anything, her words seemed to fan the flames.

"I've never felt so frustrated by someone...and yet so happy to be around them. I never thought that my emotions could be so topsy-turvy, like all over the place. I get sad and angry and happy and heartbroken at every turn...and constantly embarrassed," she rambled on with an anxious clearing of her throat at the end, feeling a little odd being the only one to talk. Throughout her whole monologue, he had never turned to face her.

"So why are you tellin' me? Hm?" he asked, clearly annoyed as his blue eyes pierced through her, not quite pulling from her words what she was trying to convey.

"Because I thought you'd like to know how I felt—" she started.

"So I tell you 'no,' and ya just run off to the next one, like ya did with Zach?" he cut in, irate, as he glared at her and flung his hand up for emphasis.

"—...about you," she finished, looking down and biting the tip her thumb a little before she glanced up again.

He seemed stunned at her words and looked away. Finally, his eyes sought her face, but they looked lost. For once, Daryl Dixon looked like he was lost. A mental war seemed to be going on underneath the surface as his eyes moved back and forth between hers. He cautiously reached his hand out to her, but it shot back, and he turned away and ran his hand through his hair as he walked a few paces away and breathed out a curse word under his breath.

"For f's sake, Beth, ya needa learn how to say whatcha mean without confusin' people... shit," he muttered, sounding more embarrassed than scolding.

"Well... maybe I figured it'd be payback for turning me down?" she mumbled somewhat impishly while she twirled her hair, although the thought never really did cross her mind, but her attention slowly gravitated to his back which accelerated her heart-rate. The shock of his anger had almost wiped that image from her immediate memory.

Gazing at his figure in the dark, she wondered how he could have gotten his scars, but it looked like it had happened long before the world turned upside down. It looked like there was at least one cigarette burn mark, and her stomach churned at the idea of what hell he went through before this one. Finding herself shivering from his small burst of anger as well as that sudden thought, she gripped her arms to try to force herself still.

"But..." he added, dubious of her intentions, "I saw you two."

"At training?" she asked as she collected herself, but his stare was her only answer. "Rick didn't know about what happened with Lizzie and Patrick, so when I told him, he saw I was upset and gave me a hug. That's all it was," she said, hoping to quell his misgivings.

He turned her way and his gaze fell on her, his eyes showing inexplicable emotion, and her heart beckoned her to move towards him. She walked forward nervously and stopped, only looking up once she was right in front of him. He looked at her face, noticing she was shaking, and he gently stroked her cheek as if making sure she was actually there in front of him.

Eventually, he placed his other hand carefully at her waist as he cupped her chin, and he slowly leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. Her heart beat violently against her ribs at their close proximity, and she cautiously moved her hands to his bare chest. Reaching back, his fingers tangled in her hair a little, and he played with her locks as they stood in that same position. She also explored through his hair with one of her hands before he pulled her close to him. Somehow, it felt like a piece of loneliness was melting away; she hoped it was for him, too.

"Why?" he mumbled into her hair, cuddling her to his chest.

"Why what?" she asked, now holding him around the waist and cautiously circling her fingers around his scars as her entire body tingled. Part of her felt afraid he might get upset at her touch, but he seemed to be allowing her the privilege. She then thought of what they had just been talking about and admitted, "I didn't really mean it as payback."

He shifted somewhat uncomfortably—not because of her fingers wandering over his skin but because of what he wanted and didn't want to say at the same time—and shook his head at her guess.

"What is it?" she asked tenderly and leaned back to look at him.

"Why d'ya..." he trailed off, turning his face to the side. "Jus'... why..."

Now, the sun had disappeared, and the stars and moon replaced its steady glow. He never really finished his question, but in the moonlight, his eyes were searching for answers in her own as they held each other shyly. Slowly, she brushed her hands across his cheeks with her fingertips playing through his hair, and she held them there while she moved her body closer. Leaning up on her tiptoes, she glanced between his eyes with her own half-shut with her answer.

Before she could second-guess herself, she lightly touched her lips to his, eyes fully closed. She felt his breathing speed up and his lips part slightly as a low rumble came from his throat, and she slowly pulled away. Instead of the lack of feeling she had had with Zach, she felt like lightning coursed through her veins even with such a small touch. She smirked at him afterward when his breathing came out choppily.

"I couldn't help it; I just fell for you," she said sweetly. "And... I wasn't really in love with Zach."

At her admission, she looked down. It felt weird to be talking about someone who was dead now—and she also felt somewhat embarrassed by just confessing to him like that. Showing signs of embarrassment also, Daryl cleared his throat and finally corrected his breathing rhythm before gently tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You should get off to bed," he said, hesitating and changing his mind to just tap her shoulder a couple times rather than kiss her.

"...Okay. Goodnight, Daryl," she whispered with a smile still stuck on her face.

"G'night," he mumbled uncomfortably.

Even though she wanted to argue, she knew it'd be hard to explain why she was out here so late with him, but she held his hand and brushed her fingers across his as she left, trying to keep his touch as long as possible. Her heart burned with questions about his past, but she accepted her victory of the night with their feelings coming out in the open. When she cleared a few hallways, she leaned against the wall and smiled as she held her finger to her lips.

"Dear diary, I kissed Daryl—not on the cheek, I mean I really kissed him. So much has happened... Apparently, Daddy told him to stay away from me, too. I still ended up flirting with him, and he shut me down; but I guess when he saw Rick training me in his place, he kinda got jealous. I thought he was just mad because I was hanging out with other people besides him (and because I didn't listen to him about training with Maggie), so I didn't expect him to be really upset about it. He thought I liked Rick! I mean, he did hug me, but he was just trying to make me feel better since I told him about what happened when I was in quarantine with the kids; I did end up telling him that, too.

I was so shocked when I went to see Daryl... he has so many scars on his back—I couldn't see them all that well in the lighting, but I felt them when we held each other. Since they were on his back, I know he didn't stand a chance to fight back against whoever did it...but they were healed over and just awful. I hate to think about how he got them, but I still want to know...

I told him how I felt, and he didn't reject me. He even returned my feelings...in his own way.

I still just can't believe how tonight went... So many misunderstandings, but now it's like all of that is over. I feel like we can finally just be together. I'm too happy tonight to think about the maybes and what ifs. I just want to think about Daryl tonight.

I can't put my thoughts together cohesively! I feel like I'm up in the clouds—maybe even in the stars that were out tonight. I don't think I will ever forget this night; it was so surreal.

I...love Daryl."

Beth awoke with a smile and played with her sheets a little in between her fingers, imagining the feel of Daryl's hair. Once she got changed and ready for the day, she walked out of her cell to meet up with her sister who seemed to be speedily rushing to meet her.

"Hi—whoa!" she said as her sister dragged her back into her room. "What's the big deal?"

"Where did you go last night?" she asked curiously, although it seemed like more pressing matters were on her mind.

"I talked with Carol; what's wrong?" she said in way of reply.

"Look, I know I've been squealing, and I don't mean to, but I have to tell someone, and you have to promise not to tell _any_body else, okay?" she hissed quietly.

"O...okay," she said, confusion evident.

"I've missed my period the last couple months... I think it's stress, but I don't know for sure..." she trailed off with her head hanging down and stared up at Beth.

Beth rubbed her face as her eyebrows shot up when the implication set in.

"I know how you feel about this; I know how you felt with Lori, too, just... Things are different here. We're not runnin', we've got people who act as doctors right now, and I think it could work," she said in a hushed whisper, and Beth couldn't tell if she was trying to convince her or herself.

"Okay," she found herself saying again. She was at a loss for any other words.

"Okay?" Maggie sort of repeated, and Beth nodded along with her and held her hands.

"Yeah. Yeah, it could work out—I mean, if you are pregnant," she said with the same false assurance she had used to calm her sister before.

Maggie nodded again, this time a little less rapidly as she seemed to calm down. She was actually shaking a little, so Beth hugged her. They went to breakfast together and were invited to sit with Rick and Carl who were also eating at the time. Even though she would have preferred to go sit with them (although she really wanted to go see Daryl), she graciously declined and sat with Maggie in the library. No one else was there that early, surprisingly, so Maggie expounded upon her feelings and thoughts.

"I mean, I don't think Glenn wants to have a child. I think he's really concerned about it," she said, biting her fingernails a little. "It's not that I'm not, but I want to have a family, too. I don't think it's impossible..."

Beth grabbed her sister's other hand and held it, giving it a squeeze as she flashed a smile at her.

"Hey. I'll ask Daryl to grab one for you on this next run," she offered.

Knitting her eyebrows together, Maggie asked, "What do you mean?"

"You know, a pregnancy test," she finished.

"I mean... Why would you ask Daryl?" she continued. "I thought you and him weren't talkin' now."

She looked away and down at the hand she was holding as she spaced out.

"Don't tell me... Is somethin' goin' on between you?" she asked, closing in the space between them.

"Maggie, I wouldn't even tell you," Beth smiled mischievously. "I tell you anything and the whole group is suddenly talkin' about it. Nuh-uh."

Giving her a pointed look, Maggie said authoritatively, "Beth."

"Not happening," Beth giggled and hopped up.

She then ran off with a good head start, Maggie chasing after her, before she was pulled off to the side. Maggie continued on after her in the direction she thought she had disappeared to, and Beth panted a little as she looked to her rescuer.

"Hey," she said with a giggle.

"Hey," Daryl answered with an amused grin and pet her face. Once her breathing slowed, he added, "Hardly slept."

Shocked, she asked, "Why?"

He took her hands in his, lacing his fingers through hers as he tugged her further into the library, away from any possible prying eyes. Excitement bubbled up inside her, wondering what he wanted to talk about.

"Wanted to see ya," he admitted. "'N...well..."

Staring at her with half-closed eyes, he drew her in close and pet her stray hair away from her face. She gave a soft giggle as her heart-rate increased and her cheeks turned pink, and he put his finger over her mouth to silence her. Glancing around first, he pulled his arm around her shoulders from behind her, placing his other hand behind her head, and leaned down to press his lips to hers. She felt a warmth spread from her head to her toes, and she unconsciously made a pleased humming noise.

"Quiet," he whispered with a smirk as his lips brushed against hers, and he moved her so her back was to the wall.

He traced his fingers around her face, stopping at her mouth, and held his thumb there while he tilted her chin up towards him. His other hand found one of hers and clasped it before his lips met hers again and again—just soft little pecks, but she thought her heart was going to get them both caught by the sound it was making. When his kisses altered their course to her cheek and jawbone, she felt extremely light-headed. Tilting her head to the side a little with his hand, his eyes analyzed her and forced a deeper blush to her face.

"I wanna follow your daddy's wishes, but..." Her heart sunk a little at his words. "I can't... No one else gets to have ya... Beth," he growled sweetly in her ear before he kissed her on the cheek and then forehead.

She was getting swept away by his affection to her, affection she never thought that Daryl Dixon would give her. His words filled the longing inside her heart, and she stared at him fondly. Brushing her nose against his, she smiled at him and gazed into his eyes to see the individual flecks of color. Seeing and smelling him this close caused her to wrinkle her brows and tilt her head a little.

"Did you shower?" she asked, squinting.

Her question totally dispelled the romanticism in the air, and he let out a soft snort.

"What, din't think I could clean up?" he countered.

"No, no! That's not what I meant," she said, face reddening—she was trying to come up with the right words to say, but she just couldn't get anything else out—and he held his hand over her mouth to dampen the sound, which only made her giggle a little.

"I thought ya'd prefer a li'l less dirt," he murmured as he kissed her head.

She looked at him gratefully and smiled when he moved his hand to softly stroke her neck.

"I like ya just like ya are," she replied, running her fingers through his hair.

His eyes squinted a little as a soft blush crept into his cheeks; he looked so cute to Beth like that. But suddenly, he heard a noise, and he pressed his lips to her forehead again before slipping away further into the library, and she took off in the other direction, walking as normally as she could under the circumstances.

"How did you get away from me?" Maggie asked incredulously. "Were you in here this whole time? If so, I'm gonna be mad. I chased around the whole prison lookin' for ya!"

Beth giggled and shook her head.

"I wasn't," she lied and laughed again at her sister.

"It's not funny," her sister responded indignantly and snagged her by her wrist. "Come on, you'll be late."

"What are you talkin' about?" she asked.

"We have a meetin' this mornin' about a run; Rick thinks you should be there, too, since ya learned how to handle a weapon an' all," she explained as she dragged her along.

Everyone was seated except Daryl, and Beth fidgeted nervously in her chair. A few were whispering about it, and Carol gave a curious look to Beth who didn't respond in any way.

"I think he was at the library—should I go check on him?" someone asked, and before Maggie could say anything, Daryl burst in and took his place, nodding at Rick.

"He was at the library...?" Maggie whispered, but Beth remained focused on Rick who then began to speak.

Even though her eyes were focused on him, she was really focusing on the man sitting next to him until her name was brought up in discussion. Because she hadn't been paying attention, she barely gathered that her name was in for the next run.

"Seriously, Rick? How much training could she have gone through?" Maggie piped up.

"Not enough," Daryl responded immediately, silencing her as she turned her perturbed glance to Rick again.

"Probably more than most of the people going into this had," Rick replied politely as he attempted to reassure those who also had misgivings.

"But she's still young," Tyreese, Sasha's brother, chipped in. "I think she should be protected here with the others."

"Until when?" Beth actually added her two cents. "Daryl and Rick both trained me, so I'm a great shot. It's not like I'm getting sent off on my own."

"So what happens when ya get out there and ya run outta steam if things go south? Ain't done nothin' for endurance," Daryl countered. "Easy way to get bit."

She felt chills go through her as his daily reality set into her, and she sat back in her seat, also silenced. It was true; even if she could shoot to high heaven, if she had to literally go on the run, she wouldn't get as far as the others who had to do so daily. That, and she trusted Daryl's word to be the final say—if he said she was ready, then she was, and if not, the converse was true.

"Good enough to stand watch, though. Got a li'l Annie Oakley," he remarked as his eyebrows shot up and fell back down.

Rick nodded his head in thought and then gave one last bob of his head as he confirmed what he was thinking.

"She is a dead shot. I take it you'll get her in tip-top shape since she wants to go out there with everyone else. All right, then—looks like Beth will be on the watch list. Any objections to that?" he asked.

"I have an objection to her trainin'," Hershel chimed in.


	8. Annie Oakley

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. (Why do I always type that out? Copy/paste...what a concept.)

Anyway! Thank you so much, everyone, for your views and reviews! I appreciate your continual support, especially ciprianoivashkov and SaraiVe. You make my day, keeping up with my story and letting me know what you think! To guest TWD withdrawl (I love the pun in your name—I'm sure it was intentional), thank you. Immensely, I thank you. Why? I was so nervous over Opposition, because I knew that would be a make-or-break chapter for a lot of my readers, and your comment validated the hours that I slaved away over the course of several days to come up with the final draft it is now (I'm always writing chapters ahead to fix any mistakes I need to). And to bloomerflaur, thank you for being my first foreign language review! I could understand most of what you said, but I admit, I still had to use Google's translator...hahah. Anyway, this chapter is about as long as the last two, and it's filled with lead-up, so please keep up with me as I transition to the more exciting chapters! (Sorry if you were confused with the start of this chapter; I accidentally chopped off the first line of the story, and a piece from the end disappeared, too. It's fixed now.)

"**I** think she should train with a fellow woman," her father put point blank.

"I can't train her," Maggie interjected.

"I don't think Michonne has the time," Rick started and, glancing her way and seeing her nod in confirmation, he looked back at Hershel. Sasha didn't speak up, either, so it seemed she felt the same.

"Then no training at all," he stated flatly.

Heat rose to her face and she scowled—she loved her father, but he was being completely unreasonable. She had to take a stand now with him, and she rose from her seat.

"I want to do this. All I've ever done for this group is babysit, and I don't wanna just babysit the watchtower, too. I want to do everythin' I can to help," she pleaded. "Rick keeps everything going here and still has to go on a run every now and then. Maggie goes all the time, and so does Glenn. Daryl has to go just about every time. Why can't I?"

Hershel looked away before responding, "It's not goin' on a run that I'm objectin' to. You know for a fact what I'm objecting to." He then turned back to her. "And I don't want to have to embarrass you in front of this table."

Although normally, a threat from her father would cause her to back down, she instead found a smile at her lips. Her father looked shock at her reaction, and Maggie covered her face.

"I'm not embarrassed about it," she said, retaining her smile. "Not one bit. So... enlighten everyone."

"I think that's enough," he sternly said to her.

She looked around the table at everyone's faces—normally when put on the spot, she would be mortified, but she stood her ground.

At that time, Daryl stood up and looked at her to get her attention.

"Now's not the time," he warned, moving his glance from her to her father and back. "Let's move on to somethin' else. We'll hammer this out later."

Everyone agreed, and Beth hadn't realized the tension that the entire room felt. Sharp exhales even escaped from a few people. When she took her seat, she found her sister still holding her face in her hand; she seemed like she wanted to hide from the situation.

"Beth," she whispered, "what are ya doin'?"

"I want to survive," she hissed. "I'm tired of thinkin' I won't because I'm not as good as the rest of ya."

Glancing at her sideways, her sister added, "Are ya sure that's all this's about?"

Rather than giving her an answer, Beth turned back to Rick for the rest of the meeting.

Once the meeting let out, she told her father she would be outside, and there she was, waiting by the fence again. She went back to her usual habit of twisting blades of grass together until Daryl came up behind her and touched her shoulder.

"Rick's comin', too. Said he wants to know what the problem is," he mumbled.

Beth turned her face and grimaced as she commented, "Well, it's pretty certain he knows I like you." At his stare, she added, "Carl said I did at the dinner table, and I got choked up about it. And of course Maggie had to start the suspicion."

He nodded with his jaw clamped shut. While she wanted to ask his opinion, that thought was short-lived with the appearance of Rick, Hershel, and Maggie in the distance. It looked like Glenn was accompanying them as well. She wanted to remain occupied with the grass, but she knew she needed to finish what she started.

She got to her feet when they approached, and her father was staring firmly between her and Daryl.

"Let's start this off with agreeing to no violence," Rick began and watched everyone for their individual nods. Once he was convinced of that, he continued, "Now, what really is this all about?"

Beth looked to Daryl for guidance, but he didn't even turn his face to her.

"I don't want Daryl trainin' Beth," her father began. "She's been through a lot, and right now she's susceptible to her emotions pushin' her into things she doesn't need to be putting herself into."

Beth opened her mouth to speak, but Daryl's voice came out first, saying, "I ain't gonna hurt your girl."

"Ya don't know that," Hershel replied, punctuating each word, but he was soon cut off.

"I ain't gonna, because nothin's gonna happen," he continued.

Beth stared at him wide-eyed, but when she saw his putting on his poker face (the same one he had used when he joked about reading her diary), she knew she needed to just go along with what he was saying. Her father's attention spun over to her, and she looked down at the ground.

"He's already told me to drop it," she mumbled quietly.

That was the truth.

"No one else has the time. I don't really, either, but she's persistent," Daryl added.

That was also the truth.

Staring hard at them both, Hershel stated, "I'm still not okay with this. I'm gonna be here to oversee everything goin' on. Is that clear?"

"Fine with me," Daryl said and squinted at the sky, appearing bored as he rubbed the end of a bolt back and forth across his palm.

"What was _I_ here for?" Glenn asked in a kidding manner, trying to defuse the palpable tension.

Maggie told him to "come on" as she dragged him away from the scene, not wanting to put any fuel to the fire with her loose lips.

"So... is everything settled now?" Rick asked, taking in the three of them.

Beth stared his way anxiously, knowing he understood there was another layer to the story, but he didn't press the issue. There was a great length of time at the stare-down before Hershel resignedly sighed.

"Guess that's as good as it's gettin'," he remarked.

Rick left the area soon after to take care of other matters, and Beth was going to trail after him when her father stopped her.

"I mean it, Beth. Any time you two are together, I plan to be there," he warned.

She gave a single up-and-down motion of her head before she darted away. She didn't want to go, really; she wanted to stay with Daryl, but she knew that would only compromise the situation. Instead, she spied on them talking, and before her father turned to go, she saw him clap Daryl on the shoulder. It seemed like he really did believe what Daryl had to say.

"Dear diary, it's gonna be hard for me to see Daryl now. I was invited to the meeting today, and Rick was actually putting my name up for the run—it was a quick one, but everyone knows that there's no guarantee what can happen. So Daryl said I wasn't ready, my sister didn't want me going at all, and even Tyreese raised his objection just because of my age. So instead, I have my name on the list to take turns on watch, because I _am_ good with a gun, even though I'm not ready to take on more just yet.

Rick mentioned my training continuance with Daryl, and Daddy got angry. Well, after everything blew over, it was agreed that I could continue as long as Daddy's there with me every time.

I dunno why he's so stuck on thinking I'm so fragile or something. I know what I was like at the outset, but I've changed. Everyone has their own jobs to do; and I've been doing mine, but I still want to reach for more. I want to survive now. I have a purpose. And it's not just because I'm with Daryl, but he was the one who opened my eyes to see it.

At lunch and dinner, I was forced to eat with Daddy. Glenn and Maggie were there for lunch but ditched me at dinner. It's like he doesn't want me to hang out with anyone at all for fear that I'll do something crazy. So I'm taking care of Judith tonight, and in the morning, I have watch for the first time.

I already feel lonely just having to go without Daryl for the day—especially after he kissed me in the library. I swear, if I would've died right then, I would've died happy. But...then Daryl would have gotten bit or had to put me down... so never mind the whole dying thing. I don't even want to consider dying any more. It's weird for me, but I'm just so okay with life right now."

As morning pulled her resting mind from sleep, Beth stretched and batted her blue eyes at the ceiling. Her sister and several others were about to go on the run she was supposed to have been on, but today instead would mark her first day on watch. It was evident why Maggie went. Although Glenn had been adamant about her staying, he was in no shape to take her place, and three was too small of a party—not to mention they didn't want the news spreading of her suspected pregnancy.

Unfortunately, Beth hadn't slept that well between her mind's activity (going over and over the previous days' events) and Judith's incessant need for attention. Now, when she needed to pass Judith to someone else, she was resting peacefully.

Once she sat up, she turned her pouting face to the child before getting dressed; she also grabbed her knife just in case. Upon delivering Judith to Carol for the morning, she briskly made her way to her post. On the way was the weapons room, and she felt her hand grasped and pulled towards the said room as she passed. Placing his finger over his lips, Daryl stood there by the weapons with her in the corner out of sight and grabbed out both a pistol and shotgun for her. Curiosity almost got the better of her, because she really wanted to talk to him, but she heard voices outside the hall momentarily.

Since it was ordinary for Daryl to be in there, they didn't even bother to do more than glance as they continued on by. After they passed, he set down the weapons and turned to her. Her heart raced at just his stare, and when he walked up to her, she reached around his waist to hold him and held her chin up to see him clearly, a smile solely for him showing. He gripped her face in his hands and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, forcing that same tingling sensation she experienced each time throughout her body.

"I said nothin's gonna happen," his gravelly voice murmured, "'n I mean nothin's gonna happen to ya on my watch."

Shocks of warmth ran through her at his words, and she desperately wished for him to kiss her again, but he released his hold on her and handed her the pistol, carrying the rifle and his crossbow himself. She had to shake herself of the feeling to be able to walk again, but she caught up to him quickly.

He deposited the rifle at her station with some ammunition and gave her a quick run-through on what her duties entailed. It was pretty obvious, and he said so, but there was protocol that she hadn't known those on watch needed to know. They had a system on how to notify each other in case of emergency, etc., and he told her to work on memorizing a few until the next person came. She was taken by surprise with the gentle brush of his fingers to her lips before he left.

Thankfully, her father wouldn't ordinarily be found going up here, probably not unless there were an emergency. Due to his removed leg, he had difficulty getting up and down stairs; still, that didn't mean he didn't ask anyone else to keep an eye on her. She sighed heavily as she practiced taking aim with both weapons. She also spent some time trying to swap quickly between the weapons and in correct stance. It took a while to really get the hang of it, but then she threw in her knife as well, sometimes in conjunction with the other weapons, until she felt like she mastered exchanging weapons.

In addition to those activities, she practiced the signs under her breath so no one would react. She felt good. Really good. As her eyes scanned the distance, she noticed a rather large herd of walkers coming in from the front toward the gate; it seemed her practice would come in handy. Initiating the sign, she warned the people at the fence of their presence. In response, they lined up at the outer gate, waiting for the walkers to show up. When they didn't come right away, the group below seemed to back off as though she had made a mistake, and she remade the sign and pointed ahead as the horde started to poke through the line of trees and brush.

At the number of the creatures present, one person took off as a messenger to gather additional help, and a few people came bursting out, making noise along other portions of the fence to keep it from bowing inward completely at the front.

The walker group dispersed in a few different directions, and Beth took a few shots at the ones nowhere near the others. She smirked as she downed two with one shot, since they were lined up together. She hadn't tried shooting from this distance before, and it was much harder to judge if the shot would hit—this was why she didn't shoot again after that with the number of people at the fence increasing. Adrenaline still pumped through her, and she wanted to go down there to help, but one of the instructions Daryl gave her played back in her head: "Don't leave yer post."

She saw the fence being pushed against its limits, and she clutched her shirt over her heart. All the walkers, besides a few limping stragglers, were taken out, but their bodies needed to be removed from the fence. Two of the group below held a single support rod of wood each and carried it to the fence, trying to push the walkers off at least partially from the inside while some of the others pulled their bodies away to relieve the weight from the outside.

Once the last walker was put down and all were pushed away from the fence, she breathed a small sigh of relief, and someone from below waved a hand in thanks. It felt good to be needed, and not just to hand off a crying baby to or to oversee children. She waved back and even pumped her weaponless fist in the air excitedly. She was so glad that they had listened to her—if they had retreated too far behind the first fence as the walkers were closing in, then the outcome would have been totally different.

At dinner, the onslaught of walkers was the topic of conversation, and everyone was bubbling over with either excitement or worry. She overheard a few people talking behind her about the incident.

"Like, at first, we didn't know if she gave the wrong signal or something, but then we looked back around, and they just kept coming! I was working my way toward the other side of the fence when I noticed two of them drop at once after a gunshot. I was like, 'Damn,'" a voice laughed.

"I saw that! Who was it?" another voice (she knew that voice was Sasha's) asked.

"I dunno. Who was the chick on watch?" the first speaker questioned in reply.

Feeling her ears turn red, Beth quickly got up and disposed of her dishes. It was only a fluke that the two-for-one shot was a success; it may have been intentional, but she didn't honestly expect it to work. The last thing she wanted was to be the subject of conversation... again. She knew they were praising her, but that felt just as awkward as, if not more so than, the rumor-spreading of her love triangle with Daryl and Rick.

"So...I really wasn't trying to get praised or be the center of attention, but everyone seems to have found out that I was the one who took out two walkers with one shot from up at the watchtower. I don't see how it's such a big deal—it was totally by accident! But, because Daryl said it, too, at the meeting and all, everyone's calling me "Annie Oakley." It's a little annoying, really. I went into this trying to become just "Beth Greene," but I guess that's better than where I stood before. And I know they mean well by it, but it's not quite what I had in mind.

Maggie and the others haven't returned from the run yet, so I guess it's a good thing I didn't go with them and slow them down. Glenn is really worried about it, but I'm sure they're all right; they probably just didn't find what they needed and moved on. Oh, and I couldn't train with Daryl today because he was busy with other things, but that's all right. The day's almost over, so I should probably just get to sleep anyway.

Honestly, though, it felt really good to assist everyone like that. I guess it was like... acknowledgment of my existence."

She paused from her writing as her thoughts flit over to Daryl Dixon, thinking about the first thing she truly wanted to know about him—what his motivation was.

"I wonder if that's his reason...? To press on, I mean. If so, I think I understand now."


	9. Oversight

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

(Sorry this note is so long. Feel free to skip to the first bold letter for the story!) So I'm sick. Yeah. And my family's over! I still have a couple chapters I'm drumming up right now, but if I don't update as readily, I'm sorry. There's a lot to do right now! And I have another apology—I wanted an all story-based characters cast in my story—but I had to introduce someone new. I may have to do that every now and then in my story just to push things along a little, and that's only because I don't want to make anyone else OOC to fit the role I need (or move them unnecessarily), so...sorry! Also, the small excerpt of a song included is from one of my original songs. I just pictured Beth singing it, so I put it in here. Lol! I didn't want to have to put another disclaimer in for someone else's song. Bah. I appreciate everyone's views and reviews!

But it's good to see you again, SaraiVe and TWD withdrawl! Thank you for your reviews; I hope that the story will continue to be to your liking! Things are about to get intense, so stay tuned! And to my good friend, ALCzysz17...you rock. Thanks for your review spam! I was so happy to see all those reviews, hahah! But I admire your work, so there's no way I can make you look bad. You inspired me, remember! But, please, enjoy, everyone!

**S**ince she hadn't been able to rest much the previous night, Beth slept the whole night through (and not having Judith there certainly assisted). She stretched to greet the day and felt content with life right in that moment until she recalled that she was to train with Daryl today. That wouldn't be such a great deal were it not for her father's insistence on being present.

Sighing as she changed her garments, she thought of skipping her training entirely, but she knew that with her unyielding position at the meeting to be trained, it would look very unusual for her to miss such an opportunity. She didn't even know what Daryl was going to put her through, but she imagined that with her father overseeing things, she could look forward to feeling twice as awkward as she ordinarily would.

She was just about to take up writing another entry in her diary when a visitor came to her door and knocked. Voicing for them to come in, she put away her diary and was surprised to see one of the men from Woodbury there.

"Hey, Annie Oakley," he said with a smile.

"That's me," she said as she lifted her brows almost in annoyance. "What did ya need?"

"I'd hoped you wouldn't mind me asking you to join me for breakfast?" he questioned, although his words were phrased more like a statement.

"_Crap,"_ she thought. She had forgotten that now, since Zach had died, she was considered "single." The guy standing before her was honestly not bad-looking at all, and he was probably at least ten years younger than Daryl, but it wasn't like she was comparing anyway.

"I-it's okay," he stuttered, placing his hands up. "I know it's sudden—"

"It's fine," she replied to his apology, getting up as she put her hair away in its usual ponytail.

Little did she know that those two words were going to instill hope rather than ward him off, and when she looked up, he held his hands out for her to go first. She felt her face flush red hot at the insinuation and hastily came up with something to say.

"Oh, um, I forgot! I have to go talk to Carol about Judith real quick. It's important," she lied as she bolted from the room.

She looked behind her for a moment as she rounded a corner, still keeping up her fast pace, and almost ran right into someone.

"I'm sorry!" she said while she tried to keep going.

When she felt herself locked in place at her hand, she looked back and witnessed Daryl's questioning face, eyebrows lifted as though expecting an explanation.

"Oh... Daryl. I-I'm sorry. I have... to go," she said hastily and pulled away.

She didn't know why she ran off, but perhaps it was due to her thought that he might read her mind and know what happened. Daryl Dixon didn't strike her as the type to allow others to touch (much less take) anything that belonged to him—and she obviously was his, although regretfully not-so-obviously to everyone else.

Even though she hadn't really made a plan on where she was going, she found herself with Carol and the children she was watching for the day, and the older woman was cradling the sleeping Judith.

"Oh, hey, Beth," she greeted, motioning for her to take a seat as she did so herself.

Following her directions, Beth sighed when she felt her weight taken off her feet. She felt like she was still flushed, and Carol had this look on her face that seemed to pry the information right out of her.

"I take it the talk went well?" she asked, not having spent any alone time with Beth since their last conversation.

"The talk did," Beth replied sullenly.

"So then what's got you all flustered this time?" Carol inquired as her eyebrows raised.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Beth relayed to her the outcome of their conversation after the meeting and what had just happened to her.

"I know for a fact he wouldn't've talked to me if he knew..." she trailed off and felt quite depressed with her situation.

"That's probably true," Carol smiled as she said this, "unless he has some kinda death wish."

That comment forced a giggle out of Beth before she buried her face in her hands and groaned. Carol's words reconfirmed her suspicions of Daryl's possessive nature. He hardly let anyone touch his crossbow or bolts ever, and anyone who touched his vest would be lucky if they kept their hand. Of course, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but that was kind of the aura he gave off. If she merited even half the worth of either object, then she knew someone trying to mess with her would be better off as a walker.

"Things'll work out in time. Remember how your father felt about our group at first? He'll warm up to the idea," Carol comforted her.

Beth nodded slowly and thanked her before going for breakfast. They were starting to get low on supplies, thus the reason for the most recent run, so she grabbed just enough to soothe her stomach before going about her day. If Daryl was ready now, she wanted to get her training out of the way—then again, she hoped he wouldn't catch her and have her explain what the issue was earlier.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice next to her saying, "Sort everything out?"

She almost clapped her hands to her face to show her annoyance at the situation but withheld the urge as she shoveled her few bites into her mouth. Evidently, her bogus excuse hardly affected his pursuance of her since he took a seat beside her.

"Whoa," he commented, "is that your way of getting into that sharp-shooting mode of yours? Gotta start with breakfast, huh. Maybe I'll give it a try sometime."

Glancing up, she caught his green eyes gazing down at her, and a small blush hit her face just from the absurdity of the situation. She wanted to run again.

"It's all right. Good to have a hearty appetite," he said to comfort her, thinking her embarrassment was because of her supposed eating habits. "You might wanna go back for seconds."

Even though it wasn't really what she had in mind, she noticed a few of his more noticeable features besides his eyes from her glance—the guy couldn't have been 30 years old, his blond hair was cropped short, and he was probably of a height or just a tad shorter than Daryl. She closed her eyes as a thought came into her head.

"You know what?" she asked him while she rolled her food in her mouth weirdly.

"Hm?" he hummed in response.

"I thought you looked older at first. If you've heard the rumors, I'm obviously not into guys younger than 40," she said as she tried her best to keep a straight face. She hardly believed she allowed herself to utter such a ridiculous statement.

In response, he leaned over her as he stood up and mumbled in her ear, "I like a challenge."

Her ears burned crimson, and she felt absolutely mortified. She turned around in her seat to confront him, but he had already left.

"What a stupid idea," she whined to herself as she exited the prison. "Now he thinks I'm playing hard-to-get!"

She breathed out heavily and closed her eyes in an effort to rid herself of her thoughts.

"I don't, really," came a voice from behind her, "unless yer referrin' to somebody else."

Eyes widening, she spun around to see Daryl there, approaching her from right beside the entrance.

"I was jus' waitin' for ya when ya came storming outta there," he added. "Care to fill me in?"

As her embarrassment hit her full force, she noticed her father leaving the prison to come join them and shook her head. Her back was facing both of them when Hershel approached, and Daryl sent her off to do some laps from one side of the fence to the other before her father could see her blushing. When she was exhausted, she stopped in front of them, panting for breath.

"Beth, I have to ask ya this," her father started, and she felt annoyed at what she thought was coming—more lectures on why she shouldn't be training. "Who was the gentleman at your door earlier?"

Her heart immediately fell to the pit of her stomach.

"I hate to tell ya, but I'm not just restrictin' ya from just one person or another. I think ya need to spend some real time workin' through what you've been through on your own," he admonished.

"I didn't ask him to talk to me!" Beth cried in frustration, glancing at Daryl whose poker face was on display.

"Or have breakfast with ya?" he continued.

Beth covered her eyes and rubbed her hands down her face.

"I tried avoidin' him—I even tried to tell him off, but he thinks I'm..." she trailed off, not wanting to repeat what she had said earlier.

The vibes she was reading off Daryl advised her not to finish, either.

"All right, Bethy," Hershel said finally. "I understand. I'll have a little talk with him later."

Beth hoped to God that was all that would happen. Although he was good at keeping up a facade, Daryl was obviously fuming beneath it all; who knew what Daryl was truly capable of doing when angered.

"Dear diary, Daryl put me through a lot in training today. It actually feels difficult writing this because my arms are so tired. I'm pretty sure he did it to pay me back for this morning even though it wasn't at all my fault! Some guy asked me out for breakfast, but he took what I said the wrong way, and now he probably thinks I'm interested in him. Daddy said he was going to "talk with him," but I dunno how that's going to work out...

I really hope Daryl isn't too angry with me. I've tried to find him, but he disappeared after we were through with everything and I was exhausted. I know how upset he got when he thought something was going on with Rick. I'm so embarrassed about this whole situation... I tried to hide it from him earlier, but it looks like that backfired..."

Not too long after updating her diary, Beth found herself walking around the prison and humming a little tune that stuck in her head before she sung a few lines.

"Life brings smiles and then the rain. Life gets hard; it's so insane how something...so beautiful could just go away. Keep real close the ones you love, and send a prayer to God above..." she stopped her singing when she heard her father's and Daryl's voices conversing, and when her voice ceased, so did theirs. When she stood by the cell they were in, she asked, "Hey, what's goin' on?"

She was merely curious, but her intuition led her to believe it had something to do with her.

"Hey, Bethy," her father responded, "I was just lettin' Daryl know your training could continue without my overseeing things."

Her eyes shot to Daryl's in question, and his expression was unreadable. Apparently, he still had some faces she needed to learn the meaning of. She looked back to her father since the question was nagging her mind.

"Why?" she inquired bluntly.

"And here I thought you'd be happy at the notion," her father said, raising his eyebrows as if to revoke his decision.

"Well... It's not that," she started, but the words wouldn't come to her.

"Good," he said and clapped her shoulder as he left. "I trust you'll keep a close eye on her training."

The look he gave Daryl seemed to imply additional meaning to the words he spoke, and the level of annoyance she felt rose. Once he walked far enough away, she turned to Daryl and folded her arms over each other.

"Don't tell me you're not—" she was cut off mid-sentence.

"I'm not," he replied.

Even though she couldn't read his thoughts, it seemed he read hers.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," she countered.

"No, I'm not goin' to tell ya about it," he expounded further before he walked to the bed in his cell and took a seat.

She had never really seen his cell much before, so she took a moment to observe it until she snapped back to the issue at hand. What sort of resembled a scowl was planted on her features, but he paid her no mind as he checked the status of his equipment.

"You're seriously gonna keep it from me?" she said, refusing to let go of the issue.

"Beth, jus'...drop it," he responded—it was very reminiscent of the first time she got into something with him, except that now his words sounded more like a request than a demand.

She exhaled loudly as she looked down and mulled over her thoughts. Now, he had no reason to keep things from her—at least, that's what she thought. Thinking back on it, though, she had kept something from him earlier in the day anyway, and he only found out about it through other people (and herself, only by accident), so she really had no right to hold him to something she wouldn't do herself. Feeling guilty about her recollection as well as knowing there was no point in fighting over something so small, she relented; she could either trust him with the situation or pout and whine about it, and she preferred to take the more mature route.

"Okay, Daryl," she said quietly.

When her eyes met his, she found a look of gratitude that warmed her heart a little. If it was really that much of a burden to him, she didn't need to know about it. Giving him a soft smile, she turned to leave when she heard a quiet "thank you" from him. She nodded without looking back as she continued forward.

Even though she knew it was going to keep pressing at the back of her mind and leave a burning feeling in her throat, she needed to remind herself that he needed some privacy, too. She for sure had things she didn't want to tell him just yet—although, he already knew about some of the worst parts of her.

"Some strange things happened today. I wrote about some already, but Daddy suddenly withdrew his whole monitoring privileges on my training a little bit ago. I think he only said that he was doing so to cover up something he was talking to Daryl about, and I'm dying to know what it is, but neither of them would tell me. Daryl gave me the sweetest look, though, when I didn't keep pressing him about it. Honestly, I kind of feel bad about pushing him in the first place after seeing him like that, but I really was curious. Still am, of course.

My sister and the others came back from the run, and Tyreese—he's such a sweet guy—he found a few soccer balls and brought them back for the kids. They weren't the most inflated things ever, but they brought a pump, too, so I went out there and helped pump them up real quick. Although, the guys did get a laugh at me for doing so, 'cause I couldn't quite get it to work at first and needed Tyreese's help. Glenn was so relieved my sister was back. I was too, of course, but I had a feeling everything would be okay. But... I'm thinking about it, and the things they think about when they go out for supplies... It's so weird. I'm extremely curious as to what it feels like to go out there, trying to survive but also get the things you need and yet still find some time to think about what other people want, too. Honestly, it gets me excited.

I can't wait to train again tomorrow! I won't hold back. I refuse to be weak any more."


	10. Eyes On

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Hey, guys! So I know the last chapter was posted late, so I wanted to get this one out earlier in the day. Thank you for another review, SaraiVe! I appreciate your keeping up with me and the story! And thank you to everyone who is reading this, whether you've been keeping up with me or just now came across Accidents Happen. If you have the time to post even a small review, it really makes my day! I'm not giving anything away for this chapter in my note except that it's about 3k words, and I hope you enjoy it!

"**Beth**!" a voice whispered, seemingly for the second time due to the raised volume, and it pulled her from her sleep.

"Mm..." she moaned. "Hm?"

"Beth," this time, she could tell it was her sister. "I'm sorry to wake you, but..."

Beth turned to face her, alarmed when she heard her sniff—it sounded like she was crying.

"What's wrong?" she asked frantically.

"My test... it was positive," she replied, and her body shook with a sob. "Glenn doesn't want me to keep it."

Beth instinctively shot up and looked at her, but where her gaze fell, no one was occupying the space. Looking around with creased brows, she pushed her blanket off her. Clearly, it had been a dream, but it seemed like it was reality. She held her hand out in front of her and then pinched her cheek (she never knew if that really worked or not, but she definitely felt the pinch). Now, she supposed she was actually awake.

She shook her head as she left her room and walked out to find Maggie. Her sister's unmistakable laugh fell on her ears, and she felt somewhat at ease; her dream really had to have been a dream.

"Oh, Beth!" Maggie exclaimed and rushed to meet her before pulling her out into an empty hallway and whispering, "It was negative."

Sighing audibly in relief, Beth hugged her sister tightly.

"Well, you don't have to seem _too_ excited about it," Maggie teased and pulled on her ponytail.

"Sorry," Beth laughed as she collected herself. "I just had a bad dream, so I guess I needed a hug."

She was getting better at the whole lie-of-omission thing. Really, though, she couldn't tell if that was a bad thing or a good thing. She did feel guilty about it, but there was no sense in panicking her sister when she had finally calmed down. Even the smallest thing such as that might set her off.

"I kinda wish it wasn't, but I know you and Glenn would be so worried... I dunno when we'll have another chance like this, though," she sighed.

"Well," Beth paused, "maybe when this whole thing is over."

Looking up at her, her sister asked expectantly, "You think this'll eventually end?"

She nodded and gave her another hug with the intense wish that her own words were true.

Her sister left to join the rest of the crew to finish her meal while Beth lagged behind. In the corner of her eye, she saw a brief glimpse of the definitive crossbow and vest of Daryl Dixon, and she slowly meandered toward his direction. When she turned the corner, she thought she lost him, but she heard a slight scratching noise, as though something brushed the wall. That struck her as odd since Daryl was a very light stepper and was, unlike her, not the least bit clumsy.

Something didn't feel right about just walking up to him straight away, especially when she heard whispering, so she went around from the other way to look in first. She felt like she was being snoopy, but she didn't want to alarm him, either; however, what she witnessed caused her instead to become alarmed, and her eyes widened as she beheld the scene before her in the darkness of the prison.

"—not a single one, or I swear, you'll _wish _you were dead," Daryl snarled.

The other man smirked and murmured something she couldn't quite understand, and that seemed to enrage Daryl as he pulled him away from and slammed him back into the wall.

"Don't forget I know how to hunt animals," he hissed angrily, "n' I won't put you outta yer misery before skinnin' yer hide."

Although she had no idea why Daryl was threatening him, she felt a cold shiver as goosebumps formed on her skin at his cruel words. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, her curiosity had shifted her focus to the man at the receiving end, and she recognized him as the same one who was flirting with her just the day before. Daryl shoved the man aside and began taking off in her direction, and she inhaled sharply in panic. Immediately, she backed away behind another corner, hoping beyond hope that he would pass the way she came originally. She knew he would hear her running away even if she tried, so this was her best chance at remaining unseen.

She closed her eyes and steadied her heartbeat and breathing as he passed, and, to her evident relief, he turned the other corner. Holding her hands over her heart, she tried to digest what she had just seen. If only she had heard what the other man said...maybe she would have known what they were talking about. Was he that upset over his flirting with her?

Later that morning, the sun beat down as she pushed herself away from the grass only to breath in the smell of the earth the next second. Push-ups weren't the easiest thing, but she was able to achieve a higher number of them than she had in a long time (maybe ever). She was also able to run for longer periods of time and faster already, and she took off on a second set of laps after her final round of push-ups was completed. It would only be a matter of time before she could go out with the others, but part of her was still stuck on something stirring within the prison.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Beth paused from her rigorous workout to look at Daryl for a moment. He seemed a little preoccupied, but when he noticed she had stopped, he ordered her to move on to the next activity. She didn't comply readily, and his gaze wandered questioningly over her.

"Ya hear me?" he asked, squinting at her.

"Yeah... yeah, I heard ya," she answered and looked away. "Sorry."

Walking up slowly, he crossed his arms and observed her, questioning, "What's eatin' ya?"

"What, um..." she started, but suddenly, her focus shifted. "What's the end goal? Like... when will I be ready?"

His eyes flashed momentarily with a hint of disbelief, but instead, he went with what she was asking then, probably considering her original question as aiming for his conversation with her father.

"Ya just started, girl," he said with a small smile as he rubbed his thumb at the side of her nose.

Twitching it in agitation, she added, "I know, but I want to be ready and go as soon as I can."

He nodded as his gaze appeared far-off. When he mentally returned to her, he gave her a small smile.

"Y'know what works out the entire body at once?" he asked seriously.

"What?" she humored him.

As he leaned over, he whispered one little word into her ear, and she stood there, stunned, until color rushed through every corner of her face.

"Daryl!" she exclaimed and slapped his shoulder, forcing a laugh out of him at her expense. "It's _not_ funny! I was being serious!"

"So was I," he said with a wink which obviously indicated he wasn't.

"Ugh!" she groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I'm done for today."

He laughed again, only evidenced by small breaths and shaking shoulders as his hand covered his mouth, and she fled the scene. It was hard to believe that was the same Daryl Dixon whom she saw earlier that morning; the first one caused fear to burn through her while this one made her want to slap him out of sheer embarrassment. She was going to help him read today, but she was no longer in the frame of mind to do so.

When she came back inside, she noticed the man she saw Daryl threaten talking with her father. Her heart fell at the thought of his saying something about the incident and creating a large commotion. Daryl had not always been held in the highest regard in the group as he was now, and she didn't want anything to jeopardize his position. Instead, though, it seemed like the guy was talking with a grin and laughing with Hershel, so she blew out a breath and felt somewhat more at ease. Still, looks could be deceiving, so she walked up to join in the conversation.

"Hey, Annie," he said with a wink, and she immediately turned her glance to her father.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" she asked him and gave him a hug in an attempt to show the other guy that he was not even on her radar.

"Ah, Ian here was just sayin' he worked as a hygienist—for a dentist," he clarified as he raised his eyebrows approvingly at the occupation choice at the man.

Her heart skipped a beat. Was her father implying something? She brushed off the idea when she remembered her father's disliking the idea of her romantic involvement with anyone at all.

Shaking her head, she smiled and said with no small amount of sarcasm, "I'm sure that was fascinating."

Although she had not once looked at him, Ian nodded his head.

"Actually, it was. Don't have the equipment here for it, but I wouldn't mind doing that to earn my keep. It's easier with electricity, of course, but I don't mind taking the extra time," he said as his eyes focused on her, and her glance caught his own.

His constant gaze was unnerving—it made her want to flee—and his implications repulsed her.

"Where did you come from?" she asked to change the subject, adding, "I can't place the accent."

"I'm from here, but I've been around," he said with a smile. "Well, not _here_, per se. Never been in a prison before this, actually."

Despite her obvious fascination, or lack thereof, with his life story, she indicated to them she had other things to do and shortly took her leave.

"Don't you worry! I will not rest until every mouth is cleansed of the apocalypse," he joked while she walked away.

"Dear diary, I had another eventful morning. Maggie says she's not pregnant, and that put me at ease after a nightmare in which she really was and Glenn didn't want her to have the baby. She told me before that he didn't seem okay with the idea, so that's probably why I had that dream (maybe even that I'm not okay with it, either), but I'm glad that she's not! So glad.

I saw Daryl almost attack one of the men here. He slammed him against the wall when he said something he didn't like, but I couldn't hear it—he was the guy who was flirting with me. I really hope that's not what set him off to do it, but if it isn't, I really have no idea what it's about. It doesn't seem like the guy, Ian, has told anyone, so I hope it stays that way... The last thing we need is strife within the prison walls.

…

I'm sorry, diary. It's been a couple days since I've touched you, but there really hasn't been anything really worth writing about going on. Mika and I have been playing together lately, of course with Carol and Judith present, and Carl seems to be floating around here and there with us and the other kids, too. I kinda hope he reaches a place where he feels like he belongs.

Ian's been hanging around us, too, and it feels like I'm constantly being watched when he's around, even when I know he's not looking at me. It's really weird; I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it. I really don't know what it is, although it's probably the fact that Daryl went after him like that, but I feel very uneasy around him. I kind of wish he would just go away or keep to wherever he was before he made his presence known to me.

I haven't seen much of Daryl outside training, either. I'd chalk it up to his being busy, but I'm not really sure what it is. I really, really miss him, though. I've tried to catch up with him, but it's extremely hard to even catch a glimpse of him. He's got some excuse when I try to follow him after training, so we have had zero alone time. I feel lonely without our talks and, I won't even lie, without his affection.

We're having a meeting today about the next run, so I guess we'll see where that goes."

Some time after her most recent entry, Beth was sitting by herself in the library, reading one of the books she had already read before, when Maggie came up to her with a smile on her face. Lifting her gaze from the book to her sister's face, she waved at her and turned back to the page she was on.

"Hey," Maggie called, gently pushing her sister's shoulder a bit. "What's goin' on with you?"

Sighing, she slowly replied, "I'm just not feeling it today."

"Well, what's wrong?" her sister asked with concern and took a seat next to her. "You can tell me."

Giving her a doubting look, Beth remarked, "I don't think I can."

Maggie's faced turned downward as her lips pressed together. It seemed she was thinking of something to say when she suddenly hopped up.

"I know!" she exclaimed, startling Beth. "How about I promise not to tell, and you have to hold me to something so I absolutely cannot tell."

Snorting in laughter, Beth rolled her eyes and looked away, but she felt her sister's steady gaze on her and knew she was genuinely serious.

"Like what?" she asked as she threw her hand up.

"Well... I dunno... Like some dirt you have on me or somethin'," her sister's voice slowly grew weaker through the sentence, her idea having been seemingly shot down.

"So... If I said I would tell the entire prison that you're expecting or something like that, you wouldn't squeal on me?" Beth asked, unbelieving.

Maggie's face brightened a shade of red when she replied rather quickly, "But I'm not!"

"Like anyone else knows that?" Beth retorted with a wink.

Her sister looked down at the table and slowly started to shake her head.

"I don't think that's good enough. Try somethin' else," she encouraged.

She rolled her eyes before closing them in thought, bobbing her head slightly back and forth until a smile came to her face with an idea.

"How about I tell Glenn about that one time... You remember that red truck?" Beth asked. At her sister's hesitation, she added, "Freckles..."

"Why would you tell him that?" Maggie cried in panic.

"I wouldn't, unless you told him or anyone else about what I might tell you about if that works," Beth said with a smile.

It seemed like it was working. After taking in her words, Maggie found herself sitting down and leaning back as she breathed out slowly.

"That's a good one," she started, "but remind me never again to ask ya to think of dirt ya have on me."

Beth shared a laugh with her at her sister's expense, and it felt like some of the stress escaped her a little. Quietly, she began to relate to her what all had happened between Daryl and herself, trying to skip through the kissing portions, but her sister immediately perked up and demanded intimate details. Honestly, though, she seemed a little disappointed.

"What's that face for?" Beth asked in annoyance. There she was telling her story and explaining her secret life to her, but her sister had to find something at fault with it.

"That's all? I was expectin' somethin' a little more..." she flicked out her tongue for emphasis, and Beth buried her face in her hands against the table.

"Well, I'm sorry that we're not having pregnancy scares," she muttered sarcastically, horrified at the idea her sister implied, as she glared and pouted at her sister at the same time.

Despite herself, Maggie laughed at Beth because of the deep color she had turned.

"I'm sorry. Go on; tell me what's really the problem now," she prodded.

Before Beth could continue, Glenn walked in, announcing the commencement of the meeting. The girls immediately removed themselves from the room and followed after him to the designated meeting room.

"So," Rick started once everyone had found their seats, "of course we know that we need some more supplies. There's a special request for dental equipment for our resident, uh...hygienist? Yeah?" Hershel nodded at him to verify he was correct. "So, if you're gonna be on this run, try 'n keep a look-out for the list of items we have here as well."

He set down the piece of paper he had in hand next to another one with the supplies that were vital. Next, he made some suggestions about who should go on the run, and Michonne and Glenn were called and both agreed with his decision. He listed Daryl's name, and shock hit the room when he objected. Since he didn't bother to explain his reason for the objection, Rick pressed him slightly for an answer.

"I think this Ian guy needs to go get his own shit," he mumbled.

"There's still the everyday things we do need; it's just a recommendation—an accessory, if you will," Carol added in order to convince him.

"If he goes, then I will," Daryl stated with finality.


	11. Secrecy

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

All right, guys! I hope this chapter blows your mind. It blew mine. Lol! I was not going to write it out this way at all (well, kind of, but not this soon), but new ideas came to me, and it just...well, there it is. This development changes a few things I was planning, but I like it, and I hope you like it, too. I know you've been missing the Bethyl moments, but I love...love...love building it up. I have a love/hate relationship with suspense, especially regarding romance. So please enjoy! Per the usual note thank-yous, thank you to everyone reading and reviewing! Thank you, SaraiVe, for your continued input, and thank you An Amber Pen for joining in! I really appreciate reading your feedback, guys! I've changed some of the direction of the story a few times based on it, so, as I've said before, let me know if there's something you want to happen! I am genie... Hah.

**S**ilence fell on the room, and a tactile tension filled the air. She looked to her father who normally would have something to say on such issues, or would at least come to someone's defense when necessary, but he wore an indiscernible expression. It seemed like something was wrong, and she was desperate to ask. Listening to her gut, she took charge of the situation.

Beth turned to Rick and gave him a meaningful look since it seemed he was about to raise a point of argument, and he caught it in time to keep himself from saying something.

"It's not a bad point, though—I mean, for Ian to go. How would anyone else really know exactly what he needs?" she observed. "If he's good with goin' along. He looks fit enough to go."

"I can agree to that. And I'm sure the tools he's lookin' for aren't individually labeled, so even if they find some of them, they might pick up the wrong ones," her father agreed.

Something felt wrong and secretive, and her stomach churned inside her; something was going on, and she knew it, but she didn't know what exactly. Muttering was heard between a few individuals before Rick took charge again.

"All right, all right. We'll settle this issue afterward. Still have a couple others in consideration, but does anyone else in particular want to go?" he asked.

Beth looked nervously around the table, an itch to volunteer striking her, but when her gaze caught her father's, his was filled with warning. She then glanced at Daryl who shared a similar look, and then, when she looked up at Rick, she saw him slowly putting pieces together.

"I'll go," Tyreese piped up, but his sister disagreed immediately.

"You just went on one. I'm not letting you go back out there so fast. I'll go," she said with a nod.

He looked like he wanted to disagree, but she would have nothing of it, so he settled himself back in his chair, seeming a little agitated at the thought but resigning himself to it.

"Well, if we can get Ian and Daryl to go, that'll be a full party, then," Rick said. "Might not even need all five in that case, but we'll see. I'll keep in touch with all of you, but in the meantime..."

He went over a couple other issues of concern about things such as fence maintenance and taking care of the crops they had started, but Beth felt her throat clenching. Why were both Daryl and her father in agreement over this?

After the meeting was over, she made a point to stay behind with Rick, Daryl, and her father before they went to meet Ian to propose his joining the group for the run. To her dismay, that thought was short-lived.

"I wanna discuss somethin' with you in private," her father said to Rick, and he raised his brows at Beth.

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she felt angry that she was being left out. Again. Letting him know she was unhappy with the situation, she turned her head with a sharp exhale and allowed her feet to tap more loudly to the ground than normal with each step as she bolted out of the room. Maggie was waiting for her right outside and grabbed her arm as she tried to barrel past her.

"Beth, look at me," she said, trying to coax her. "Don't let this get to you."

She remained frustrated until she saw her sister's raised eyebrows, and when Maggie saw she finally had her attention, she nodded to the crack at the door. Ducking down, she moved over to the other side of the door to listen in, and Beth followed her example.

"You're gonna have to run as soon as this thing opens," Maggie warned in a whisper and pointed to a corner nearby behind them to flee to.

She nodded in understanding and tried to remain absolutely silent. Unfortunately, her loud heartbeat was keeping her from hearing very much of what they were saying. All she heard was that guy's named mentioned a few times and Daryl saying that he didn't like something. Her father said a few things as well, but she didn't gather much from it, so she decided to go wait around the corner for Maggie, notifying her of this. Maybe she would glean more information than she did and then come back and relay it to her.

Hearing the door open, she backed up and waited for her sister to join her there, but she didn't see Maggie move towards her, so she peeked around the corner to see what was going on. To her surprise, Maggie was nowhere to be seen, and the men hadn't left the room, either. When she didn't come back into view, Beth knew for a fact that she was still going to be kept out of the loop.

"Dear diary, I think my presence at the meetings causes things to go haywire, because both times I've been there, we've had to have a little secondary meeting after the fact about whatever drama came up.

Daryl refused to go on this next run unless Ian goes, and Daddy backed up his decision. I don't know why, but I did, too—I did first, actually. It just felt like it was necessary...but now they're keeping me in the dark about whatever it is that's going on. It's driving me insane. Maggie was at first on my side and curious also, but now she's just like them. I don't like to complain, but this just isn't fair...

And I miss Daryl... I don't care what it takes, I'm going to find him today and get him alone. I don't care if he tells me about what's happening or not; I just need to see him. I feel so lonely... and now my sister is like a part of all this, too. I tried to talk with her about my situation today also; we had a good little chat, so I just don't get why it's like this. Does everyone think I'm too small or weak or young to handle whatever this is? I'm lost. And alone..."

Just as she promised her diary, Beth Greene found her target, Daryl Dixon, very late that evening and, for the first time, was the one pulling him aside. He tensed up at her presence, but she continued to hold his hand softly as she led him away into her cell. She didn't say a single word to him until he said her name in a beginning-of-a-lecture tone.

"I don't want to talk about all this, or anything, really. I just want to see you, Daryl. I haven't seen you. I've missed you, and I'm frustrated as all Hell about all of this, and you've been there for me before, but now—" her tears fell as she spoke, and her rambling would have continued were it not for the gentle push of his lips to hers.

Grabbing a handful of her hair as his other hand wound its way around her body, he pulled her closer into his kiss, every ounce of passion she had been missing seemingly accumulated into this one moment. Soft noises and gasps escaped her throat as the last few tears dripped down, and he reached up to wipe them off her one cheek while he tilted his head.

Intense warmth overflowed from within her when she felt the wet heat of his soft tongue against her lips. Impulsively, she opened them in invitation, and she moaned quietly when it entered her mouth. It was almost as though their tongues were reaching for each other and saying what they couldn't say in words—apologizing and desiring and making up for lost time. She didn't want to talk to him; she didn't need to right then. When they pulled back, they stared into each other's eyes, and she felt her uneasiness melt away.

Even if it was just for this moment, she was willing to allow herself to indulge in forgetting everything. She reached her arms around his neck and held her body up against his as she longingly kissed him again. His hot breath was rapidly hitting her skin, intermingling with her own, and she felt herself slowly being pushed back and lowered into her bed. Nervousness and excitement shot through her, and a tingling feeling raced inside her whole being as he held himself over her and kissed her lips. Her own breathing accelerated, and she reached up and tenderly massaged him as she played with his hair. She had been missing the silkiness of his locks, and in that moment, she wished he allowed his hair to grow longer.

He seemed to notice that her mind was side-tracked, and his "punishment" was to gently nibble at the flesh at the base of her neck which only caused her to moan. Holding his hand over her mouth, he continued at her neck with warm, sweet kisses and a few soft swipes of his tongue to her skin. Although he was only concentrating on one portion of her, she felt every move he made in every corner and extremity.

After several more kisses and a soft hug, Daryl leaned to the side and rested there beside her, petting her face shyly. It was adorable to her how he could allow himself to be so consumed with passion in one moment and in the next uncomfortable even at a small show of affection. Turning to her side a little to face him, she lifted her hand to his head to pet through his hair again. It was very dark since it was nighttime, but they were still gazing at each other.

"I wish you could stay," she whispered, to which he offered her a consoling kiss. "I hate this..."

"My kissin' that bad?" he teased, but when she didn't laugh, he sighed and pulled her close to him. "I know. It's not...easy..."

When he didn't finish, Beth almost interjected something else to say, but she heard his gentle whisper pick up again.

"I hate not tellin' ya," he admitted, kissing the side of her face and her head.

"So why..." she started but couldn't finish.

If he couldn't tell her, and it was really bothering him not to tell her, she already knew the reason. Her father made it obvious in the meeting he was hiding something, too, so he had to be behind the secrecy—he seemed to be from the start, anyway. Instead of letting Daryl stew over an answer to give her to turn her down, she slowly rubbed her lips against his and pet his face.

"I'm sorry. I won't ask," she relented before a thought suddenly hit her. "Daryl, you're goin' on a run tomorrow! You need to get to sleep!"

Snuggling into her shoulder, he hummed in agreement as his arm held her more tightly to him. She felt her face burn at the idea of sleeping next to him—even though they had already been sharing the space—and she pushed at him a little.

"I mean in your own bed!" she despaired.

"I missed you, too," his soft, husky voice hit her ears, and it seemed he was ignoring everything she was saying.

But with his words, her mind went blank, and although she felt extremely embarrassed over her situation, she eventually succumbed to sleep in his arms.

"Dear diary, I think I got a severe overdose on Daryl... I'm not thinking straight, and I'm sure I won't be talking straight all day.

I slept with Daryl. Well, I mean, not naked... Ugh, it's so embarrassing to write! But it was the most amazing night; I guess it kind of makes up for not having his attention or alone time at all. Even with everything going on, I'm so happy... I feel giddy. I'm so in love with him...

Everyone is gone on the run, now—Ian included. I guess he felt like he had something to prove or whatever. I don't care. I just pray that Daryl gets back home safe. He woke up super early this morning, and I know for a fact he was watching me sleep! I woke up to his eyes gazing at me, but I can't say it was the most unpleasant way to wake up...only that I was blushing to high heaven.

I know he just left, but I miss him sorely. There's a big aching feeling in my heart, and I can't shake it. I've never felt this way in my life."

After Beth went through her training regimen by herself (she was pretty much on auto-pilot by now anyway), she showered and went to help Carol with all the children. Mika came bounding up to her and tackle-hugged her, and Beth picked her up and held her. The training was obviously helping—before, she would have had a really hard time carrying the child since she was not nearly as light as Judith, but now she was handling her without much difficulty.

"You're gonna spoil that girl," Carol said with a wink and a smile.

"Yeah, right," Beth retorted. "I already have!"

Mika giggled shyly in response before Beth set her down on her feet. She then shot off to go play with one of the other children with some building blocks that were brought back. Sighing softly, Beth took a seat next to Carol on the grass. It was a nice day to be outside, and she hoped it would stay that way for Daryl and the group.

"You seem a little..." Carol drifted off with raised brows, "...disconnected. You're somewhere else."

Her face to the ground, Beth glanced up at her and gave a subtle nod in assent. She pretty much pegged it.

"I... I dunno," she started, but as the silence grew between them, she continued. "There's a lot of secrets going around right now—like dark secrets about someone around here—and I want to know, but... Daryl can't tell me because Daddy's the root of it."

A look of surprise adorned Carol's face at the knowledge, and she asked, "Are you sure? Your father doesn't seem the type."

Beth relayed to her everything she knew and saw Carol's face in a state of puzzlement.

"Beth, when did all this start?" she queried.

"Well... I guess when that Ian guy invited me to breakfast," she stated as her brows furrowed. "Why?"

"Did you tell your father?" Carol continued her questioning, ignoring Beth's.

"Well, no, he found out on his own, wh—" she started.

"When he found out, what did he do?" she was unrelenting.

"Um..." Beth began again, flustered but not angered. "He scolded me over it until he found out it wasn't my fault, like I told you just now, but then he said he was going to talk to him about it."

"So after he had this talk was when everything...shifted?" she asked finally.

When Beth nodded her reply, Carol's eyes flashed as the information settled on her, and Beth, dying of curiosity, asked her if she knew something.

"Doesn't it strike you as odd that your father relented over the issue of your training with Daryl and suddenly seems to be all about Ian but then seems to turn on him at the meeting?" she observed to her. When Beth's eyes widened, she continued. "And then you overhear Daryl threatenin' him when you know for a fact he wouldn't go doin' such a thing without reason? And you felt like you were being watched all the time _just_ after that?" After a pause, she grabbed Beth's hand and stared at her dead-on. "Beth, I think they're not telling you because that man poses a threat to you, and I'm sure Daryl's been the one lookin' over you."

Beth wanted to counter what she said, but the pieces were fitting together perfectly. But why? Why would he be a threat to her?

"I think it's rich for him to yell at me over not tellin' your father somethin', and he turns around and pulls the same trick on you," she shook her head, her voice showing she was incredulous at the situation. "If you're in danger, you need to know. You're capable of handling yourself now, but even if you weren't, you should be kept aware. I'm just glad you told me so we could sort this out."

"But... But Carol, that doesn't make sense," Beth said, breathing quickly in and out. "Why would he..."

"It does make sense, Beth. You know it does. And do you even need to ask why?" Carol asked. "You're a pretty girl. He's got his sights set on you; that's obvious. When your father had that talk with him, he probably sensed something off about the man. If there's something wrong with him, then of course you need to watch yourself."

A feeling of dread settled into her, and she sat there with her hand over her fast-beating heart to contemplate everything. Every memory around this seemed to spin back and forth in her head until her mind concluded what her heart refused to acknowledge as the truth. There had to be another explanation for everything that happened. Carol could be wrong, right?


	12. Sunshine

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Okay! Sorry I didn't post yesterday. It might be a tad bit more intermittent now than an everyday thing, just for the time being, so I apologize. I haven't even had time to practice, so I'm prioritizing you guys! Hahah. That and I love reading your reviews and seeing how many views there are. You are my motivation, guys. Please please please listen to The Civil Wars' version of "You Are My Sunshine"! If you can. I know that's random; and I know not everyone can. So there's that random bit out, and here's my little disclaimer of not owning the lyrics to Skillet's "Whispers in the Dark"—sadly, I don't. Epic song, though. Thank you to the following awesome people: SaraiVe for always, always reviewing for me (LOL! I loved the whole Sweeney Todd comment; and no, no spoilers shall I give even though you consistently review for me. Sorry!); An Amber Pen for a consecutive review; TWD withdrawl for yet another review (and I think this chapter might bring back what you missed; it was hard to put her accident-prone-ness in with all the other things I crammed together); wewak for being the new addition to my reviewers; and everyone who reads this story. I hope you all enjoy!

**Over** the next couple days, thoughts of Ian's proposed motives and incessant worry over the group's return plagued Beth. She lay listlessly in her bed the third morning since their departure and sought her diary for comfort.

"Dear diary, the group still hasn't returned. I'm so scared that something could have happened or could still happen to them. I know they have Michonne and Daryl, and they're the best we have in my opinion, and Glenn and Sasha are present as well and have been on runs before and can hold their own, but... If Ian really is a bad person like Carol thinks, then the group could be in trouble.

Something's been playing in the back of my mind this whole time—did Daryl want Ian to go on the run with them to keep him from being alone with me here or for something else? Like... I dunno. I hate to even write down what I'm thinking, but I wonder if he and Daddy planned to take him out... That seems really excessive. He hasn't done anything to me; I mean, he is really creepy and I know he likes me, but I don't think killing him is the right answer to this.

I could be getting this all wrong, though; maybe I'm reading into it a little too much.

My watch shifts were uneventful—I mean, that's really a good thing, but I've had nothing to do but stir around all these thoughts in my mind and get some more exercise and aiming practice in (not that I waste shots. I still just aim and pretend to shoot).

Maggie's been watching me like a hawk, and it's kind of annoying. At least when Daryl was doing it, I couldn't tell who was doing it or from where, but it's pretty obvious with her. She's always around me now, and it only bothers me because I know she won't out and tell me what she knows. I asked her, and when she refused to tell me, I didn't even let her know what Carol is speculating and what I secretly am too.

I've been hanging out with Rick and Carl more often lately, and Mika has almost become my shadow. It's like we're a regular group now, the four of us. Carol hangs out with us, too, and I've noticed Tyreese coming around to hang out with the children also. He and Carol both really prioritize the care of the children, even above themselves. I'm kind of selfish, personally—I want to take care of them, but I also want to take care of me, too. That's partly why I wish I could go on runs with everyone else instead of just staying here to babysit.

Sorry, I'm rambling yet again."

Her writing was cut short by a knock to the side of the opening to her cell room. When she turned, Carol was smiling at her a little.

"They're back," she stated simply.

Shuffling haphazardly to a sitting position and casting aside her diary in the meantime, Beth questioned, "All of them?"

As her eyes closed, Carol gave a single slow nod of her head in response. She waved her hand across her to escort Beth out of her room, and Beth, once she finally could cast her sheets aside, fumbled to a stand and shot past her, running through the prison and out to the grassy lawn outside. Carol's confirmation of the whole group's return relieved her in that Daryl couldn't have done anything radical and Ian couldn't have done anything to sabotage the others. She jogged past one of the vehicles that had already been sitting there and turned around the corner of it to meet everyone when she instantly felt her face and arm connect with another body. Halted in motion, she grabbed her cheek and rubbed it a little.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Couldn't wait to see me, hm?" a familiar voice responded cheerfully.

Her heart stopped as her face grew hot at the accusation, and when her eyes took in the somewhat disheveled-looking, blond-haired occupant of her worried thoughts, she cringed a little.

"Did it hurt, love?" he asked softly, reaching out to touch her face, but she backed up in recoil into Daryl's open palms. A wink was thrown Daryl's way before the one instigating walked off, and Beth felt her face burn even more hotly than it had been just a moment ago.

After a second, Daryl relinquished his hold on her as he turned to unload their vehicle. Rather than standing there watching him and the rest, she came over to help lift things and bring them inside. She was pleased and actually surprised at her own strength as she moved things from one place to another; she honestly felt amazing to no longer be as weak as she had almost always been. Still, the image of her bumping into Ian and his reaction kept playing in her mind and causing her to flush uncontrollably. The others would keep telling her not to push herself, and she continued to persuade them she wasn't until they ordered her to take a seat.

A glass of water was forced into her hand, and she looked up to thank the giver when a blush hit her face again at the same replaying memory. The offering hand touched her forehead in worry.

"Are you feeling all right? You look rather unwell," Ian spoke tenderly before she batted away his hand uncomfortably. "Make sure you drink that."

He pointed to her water before he ambled his way back to the rest of the group outside, updating them on her status as well as popping in a little joke that she couldn't hear that they laughed at. Amusement was the last thing shown on her or Daryl's face, however.

Lunch was made up very soon thereafter for all the starving individuals from the run and those involved in the unloading process, and Beth found herself seated alone in the corner of the dining area in an attempt to dissuade company—Ian's, specifically. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he was gaining favor with many others within the group for going out on the run as well as for his jovial spirit. It was hard to ignore the fact that he was very sociable around others; but it was also difficult to ignore his infatuation with her.

Although she had made a valiant effort to remain alone for the duration of her meal, Ian strode over to her and sat across from her with a wide smile on his face.

"Hey, Annie," he greeted her. "You have enough this time?"

Beth felt like her face was going to remain in a fierce glow for the entire day at this rate, and she turned away further into the corner. Even though she was supposed to be watching herself with him, supposedly, she felt more like she needed to guard herself from further embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I genuinely adore teasing you; you just look so cute that way," he admitted with a sympathetic yet unrepentant glance. His words reminded her of when Daryl had teased her that one time outdoors and said something rather similar, and she flung her spoon down uncomfortably. "Oh, please don't be upset, love."

"Ian, I'm interested in someone," she stated boldly while staring reproachfully into his eyes.

"Well..." he started and ate a few bites of his food. "I can fix that."

His eyes flashed at her, and she felt a chill which made her shiver.

"He won't win this time," he said as he stood up and walked away.

When she glanced up, she noticed Daryl's gaze in her direction, and she leaned against the table, burying her face in the crook of her arm. Ian's words played back in her head, and she wondered about what he meant by "this time"—but she felt discomfited at the knowledge that Daryl had been watching her as her newest and most persistent pursuer flirted with her.

"Beth," she heard after a few moments, but she didn't lift her head. "Beth!"

Her eyes locked with her sister's as she turned her face upward.

"Were you just hanging out with Ian?" she inquired with a scowl on her face.

"Maggie, I'm trying to avoid him. It's not working," she mumbled and wrinkled her nose at her now-cold food.

Still, she continued to shovel it into her mouth while her sister went on about how Hershel had warned her to stay away from guys—not that she had been so worried before—and Beth just nodded absently the entire time. She knew what her sister wouldn't tell her; she didn't have to keep making up fake excuses. It was really starting to frustrate her, and her sister would not let up.

"Look, Maggie," she finally interjected, "I'm not gonna let Ian get me, okay? Or whatever he's thinkin' about doin'. None of you have to tell me what's going on; I'm not stupid. Now, excuse me."

Sliding out of her chair, she strode to the kitchen, leaving behind a dumbfounded Maggie. Making her way outdoors again, she started up her training regime and pushed herself to her limits. Her sister's words had only confirmed her suspicions that what they were keeping from her was what Carol had already surmised. She threw her body up in the air after her last set of crunches to go on yet another round of sprints, and when she turned to run, she almost tripped over someone's shoe which stopped her in her tracks.

"What are you—" she started angrily at whoever was the culprit for nearly causing her to stumble.

"Be careful," the dreaded voice warned. "Don't want you falling—well, for anyone but me, that is."

"Ian," she began in agitation when she witnessed him winking down at her.

He took her face in his hands suddenly and stared longingly into her icy blue eyes with his own frosty green pair. She seized up at the uninvited and unexpected touch as she stared at him in shock. An eery pause fell between them before his voice suddenly shook the silence.

"You are my sunshine—my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey," he sung chillingly, and she somehow managed to pull herself away from his hands. "You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please, don't take my sunshine away."

His voice sent shivers up and down her spine especially since he slowed the tempo toward the end; oddly, the tone of his voice was sweet and pleasant, but there was an undercurrent of hostility that alarmed her, augmented by the melancholy version he sang. Reaching out again, he locked her fingers in his and brought her knuckles to his lips, staring at her as he kissed them each slowly. She was sickly mesmerized by him as her stomach turned circles inside her.

Before she could remove herself from him, she felt her hand yanked away as she watched Daryl pull Ian off her. He then grabbed Beth and shielded her against his body as he glared menacingly at Ian, who in return laughed, the smile never reaching his eyes.

"Oh, dear," he said between chuckles, "it seems someone doesn't care for us to be happy. Don't worry, Annie; our time will come."

Parting with one last smile, he whistled the chorus one more time as he slowly walked to the prison. Tears sprung to her eyes at the realization that if Daryl hadn't come—if no one had been watching her—something more could have happened. Holding her body to his and her head to his chest, Daryl soothingly petted her, but his hands were shaking.

"Nothin's gonna happen to you," he breathed, restating his promise in her ear.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Her evident weakness against a figure larger than herself crushed her confidence in her own strength. She thought she could almost handle herself out there, but if Ian had been someone from another group while she was on a run and off on her own to collect something for the group, they would never have seen her again unless Daryl rescued her like he had. The tears finally escaped her eyes at her frailty, and Daryl's grip became firmer.

"I'm gonna get that son of a bitch," he growled angrily. "Should've f'in fed 'im to the walkers."

"No, Daryl, it's okay," she responded and leaned back to look at him. Rubbing away her tears, she collected herself and added, "I promise I'll be careful."

"He touched you," he mumbled, feelings of guilt evidenced by the slight wavering in his voice.

Beth reached her arms around him tightly and said, "Daryl, it's not your fault." As she felt his arms loosen around her slightly and his breathing regulate again, she looked up into his eyes. "I'm okay."

When the two went back into the prison, they hardly were able to spend much time together the rest of the day. It seemed that everyone else was moving along as usual, and Ian had a list of appointments with the group set up to start the following morning since he now had the right equipment. Dinner went by without incident, but after, as Beth was walking off to find Carol, she heard the acoustic guitar Glenn kept around strummed slowly and quickly in a steady rhythm from the library. She peeked in just as the performance began.

"'Despite the lies that you're making, your love is mine for the taking. My love is just waiting to turn your tears to roses,'" that same clear and sweet, somewhat husky voice hit her ears from the other side of the room, and she looked up.

Ian had adapted a much more harsh-sounding song to that of a lonesome, haunting piece. Although his voice was like that of an angel's, it seemed tainted by the curse of demons. It was mesmerizing to listen to, but she felt sick to her stomach. The quoted Skillet song was continued through to the end, and when he noticed her figure there by the door, he gave her a wink before he turned to one of the other prison-occupants who spoke to him in awe.

"You're so good! I've never heard you sing before," the person said excitedly.

"I'd given up music," he replied, "but my muse has returned."

Beth darted away when his sharp gaze fell on her, and she heard his next song slowly soften to nothing once she was out of earshot. She closed her eyes and tried to stop thinking about what was happening. She couldn't reason out why he continuously kept following her or just randomly showing up and causing her so much trouble, nor could she give clear meaning to his words just then or from before. It was like she was a part of a play of his that she didn't have the script (nor desired to have one) to.

Sighing, she fixed her resolve to find Daryl, so she crept her way over to his cell. As she neared it, she tried to remain quiet and muffle the sound of her steps, but a tap on her shoulder caused her to almost jump out of her skin.

"Hey, Annie," Ian gently called. "You didn't stop by to sing with me. I thought you loved singing."

Her eyes widened as she moved back from him a few steps.

"Well, I suppose I can't expect you to jump right into it. We can practice together, you know; I'm a little rusty, too," he added.

"M-maybe some other time," she replied with a slight bob of her head. "My throat's a little sore."

Now she was just flat-out lying, but she didn't care. He needed to leave her alone.

"Ah, okay. Well, do you want to play cards? Some of the children want to play Go Fish," he offered.

"I'm tired right now; might be getting sick, so it's better if you go," she said dismissively, trying to coax him away.

He nodded and turned, but before he left, he gently stroked her hair and planted a kiss to her head.

"I missed you," he whispered before he walked away.

Beth stood there in shock as she gripped the collar of her shirt in both hands while stepping backwards, even though he was already gone. Daryl wasn't there in his cell, either, so she sat on his bed in contemplation, feeling her heart's every single beat.

"Dear diary, everyone's back. I've been on edge because of Ian all day, and I feel so humiliated with his antics toward me and my own clumsiness causing me problems with him; it even makes me want to just avoid Daryl, too, because I'm too afraid to tell him about everything that goes on.

I'm glad Daryl is back, but I wish Ian would leave me alone... Unfortunately, I have to see him tomorrow at least once; he has an appointment set up for me in the afternoon. I honestly don't even want to go. I hated going to the dentist as it was, but now it's going to be that much worse...

At least I have watch after that, so I can hide away from everyone. If he tries to bother me there, I can always just tell him I need to focus on my job to make him leave. Maybe Daryl will come and see me. I want to just go to his cell and cuddle in with him all night, but I'm beginning to think that was a one-time-only thing. If I can force my mind to stop thinking about all this, I'll be sure to sleep as much as I can. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day..."

~+~Author's End Note~+~

I imagine Ian's voice as sounding similar to the male vocalist in The Civil Wars in that song. (I don't plan to do very many end notes, but I just didn't want to spoil the beginning yet still give you an idea of what he should sound like!)


	13. Appointment

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

I am sooo sorry this is late, guys. I had to stay up late tonight to pump this one out, and I've been dying to finish it! Gah. I've had to re-write it so many times because I wasn't happy with it... I hope that the number of words will sort of make up for it, but the next chapter—nah, no spoilers. Lol! Sorry. I know it's been almost a week since I've updated—just had so much to do, and, as I said, I had to work it over so much. I'm excited, though, because I passed one more of my essential tests this semester (only two left, and I've already passed four so far). Yay! Now, away from my boring life and on to the thank-you's. Thank you so much to TWD withdrawl, my other guest, SaraiVe, An Amber Pen, and ALCzysz17 for all your amazing reviews! I get so excited, like I'm getting a present, every time I see a new review, hahah. Oh, but I apologize if this chapter isn't incredibly amazing compared to others—I've been working on it so much, but I am so dead tired now, so I hope it isn't disappointing. Thank you to all my readers and to those who favorite/follow Accidents Happen! I feel like it's incumbent upon me to write because of you. Please, enjoy!

"**Oh**, come on, Beth," came a chorus of voices.

"_How did I get myself into this?"_ Beth asked herself mentally, bracing herself for what was to follow.

Right after lunch the following day, Ian had been requested to play guitar for everyone and sing (between appointments, of course), and he beckoned her to come join him for a second song. She was turning red and slowly wandered over only after much encouragement from everyone, despite Maggie's disapproving glare. She tripped on a chair as she walked by, and she blushed even harder than she had already been.

"That's the spirit," Ian cheered her on as he began to strum a few chords.

The lyrics were benign—nothing romantic or super flowery about love or some such thing—but she still felt very awkward singing a duet with him, even though their voices complemented each other's beautifully. At the end of the song, everyone was begging for an encore performance, but Beth immediately declined as she gave an only semi-convincing excuse of needing to help Carol in the kitchen. Still, she did so to give credence to her argument, and Carol complimented her on their successful harmonizing once Beth entered the room.

"Sounded pretty good," she commended with her usual raised brows. "Daryl didn't object?"

Sighing heavily, Beth replied, "I didn't look..."

Mouthing an "oh," Carol looked down with pursed lips, holding back a little laugh. When Beth mouthed back a "what," Carol shrugged a little with a smile.

"You're not just tryin' to get under his skin, are ya?" she asked impishly.

"Is that what it looks like?" Beth responded, alarmed, with her own question.

Carol's entertained glance was all she needed for a reply, and she turned back to her chores, gently wiping down the dishes in an effort to dry them off as her thoughts wandered. First, she thought of Daryl and hoped he wasn't too angry with her, but her thoughts randomly turned to the fact that it was hard to keep dry towels on hand, what with the unpredictable rain outdoors. She glanced up as she was zoning out but soon noticed Daryl's figure standing in the doorway. Obediently, she dropped her work and came up to him; he didn't even need to say a word to her.

When he took her hand in his, he led her outside with him. They walked for a little while outside the prison, staying close to the building, until he suddenly pulled her in and held her close to him, snuggling his face against her hair and breathing in her smell. By the way he had her wrapped snugly in his arms, she figured he probably had to have missed her about as much as she had missed him. Working his fingers through her hair, he gently touched his lips to her forehead and led her into a small space on the outer wall of the prison, his body and the juncture of two walls surrounding her. Since the sun was on the opposite side of the building, their figures were somewhat masked in the shadows.

Being cornered by any other person would put her in a state of unease (especially in Ian's case), but she felt completely comfortable with Daryl's attention to her, and she held her head up to him as her eyes closed. Gratified at the touch of his lips, she hummed contentedly and lifted her hand to caress the side of his face, then pulled her fingers softly through his hair which was now lengthening.

"I know, I needa get it cut," he mumbled, looking away during the momentary break from their lip-lock.

"No, don't do that!" she said with a giggle at his wide-eyed stare before quickly explaining, "It's cute like this."

A smirk adorned his features, but she could tell he was shy over her compliment with the soft spray of pink that touched his cheeks. This time, she reached back behind his head and brought him closer for a kiss, slowly massaging his lips with hers before teasing him with a tiny flick of her tongue. His throat gave a low rumble as he pushed himself against her to the wall before bringing his hands up to the side of her head as his tongue played against hers. A gentle moan escaped her as her body tingled with warmth through and through. Desire was welling up inside her until she heard someone whistling around the corner.

Shocked, they pulled back from each other and stared at the intruder.

"Well, well, well," Ian said after finishing the line he was whistling. "Someone's been a naughty girl."

"F off," Daryl growled, putting himself in front of Beth to defend her from him.

"I know you're only doing this to drive me insane, and, I have to say, it's definitely working," he retorted, completely ignoring Daryl. "I'm so pissed right now, but more than that, I just want you, Annie. Your little game is torturing me."

"Her name is Beth, 'n yer insane on yer own," Daryl cut in, and Ian's face contorted for just a moment, leaving Beth wondering over his marked confusion.

"Come now, love," he said with a smile toward her as he disregarded Daryl's statement. "It's about time we stopped playing these games. I'll forgive everything you've put me through if you'll just come back to me."

He held his hand out to her, and his face was full of compassion and yearning. Beth was puzzled at and felt anxious over his actions and words, and her feet seemed like they were cemented to the spot. She couldn't force herself to run away if she needed to, nor could she move towards his direction even if she would choose to (and she certainly would not).

"She ain't goin' with ya, so you better back off before I _let_ somethin' happen to ya," Daryl warned. "You keep crossin' the line; I'll putchoo in yer place. No more of this holdin' back shit."

"I see..." Ian's eyes narrowed as enlightenment came to him. "So, something's been holding you in check? Or, rather... someone." When Daryl glowered at him, he laughed. "So I'm right. Guess he prefers the educated, 28-year-old musician to the middle-aged, redneck nobody for his little girl. I do have far more to offer Annie, anyway."

Incensed by his remarks toward Daryl, Beth scowled until she saw Daryl's face growing red with rage. Eyes fierce, he went up to Ian, picking him up by his collar, then slammed his forehead into his with enough force to make the man's head drip crimson.

"Daryl!" Beth exclaimed, hoping her voice would snap him out of it before he did anything worse.

"I don't give a shit about anyone's f'in' opinions," he snarled, "but you better keep your hands off Beth. I warned you once. This is twice. I ain't gonna say it a third time. You'll _really_ feel it next time, and then ya won't feel nothin'."

Ian, now crouched on the ground, was holding his bloody forehead with an amused grin on his face.

"Well... We'll see about that," he murmured as he got back to his feet.

Staring down Daryl, he whistled the first tune he had sung to Beth, before turning his gaze to her, and walked backwards a pace. She watched him as he turned on his heel and ambled back towards the prison, feeling sick to her stomach.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Ain't your fault. Guy's a damn psycho..." Daryl mumbled, his breathing still fast from his burst of anger.

Beth's thoughts turned over and over in her mind. When they went back to the prison, they parted ways only because Daryl had watch, and Beth had to take care of Judith since Carol had other things to attend to, although Tyreese volunteered to watch the other children for her. Mika accompanied Judith and her godmother, but the girl soon fell asleep, soon followed by Judith. As the two slept soundly, Beth took up her diary.

"Dear diary, I'm a little confused about Ian. With the way he's talking, it sounds like all of this has happened before with me, but I didn't even know he existed until recently.

I don't understand! He keeps acting like I'm his long-lost girlfriend or something..."

She glanced up from her writing as her brows knit together in thought before resuming her writing more fervently.

"What if he thinks I am his old girlfriend or significant other or something? I mean, that's what it seems like. He said that Daryl won't win "this time," and he said if I come "back" to him. What else could he mean? And this only started after I was called "Annie Oakley," and he doesn't call me by my actual name. I'm gonna go talk to Daryl about all this. I know he's on watch, but I think this is important.

What if Ian is...mentally disturbed or something?"

Grabbing Judith, Beth made her way over to Tyreese and pleaded with him to watch her and Mika for her as well (really, though, he readily complied—he seemed more than willing to do so), and she returned to wake Mika before sending her off to him. The young girl was rather reticent to depart, but Beth coaxed her into it by saying she would come back after her appointment to hang out with her. Giving her a bright smile, the girl ran off to do as she was told, and Beth made her way to the watchtower.

When she saw Daryl Dixon slowly come into her field of vision, she felt an almost tickling sensation crawling up and down her arms as she observed his own muscular ones which were exposed by his sleeveless attire. She licked her lips before nibbling the lower one and saw him turn and glance at her. As she neared him, she took his hand in hers and smiled softly, but her distress was evident on her face.

"Wha's wrong?" his low voice rumbled quietly.

"Um..." she started, then looked away. "I know it's the last thing you wanna talk about, but it's about Ian."

"Huh," he let out a breath and looked out to the horizon again, his jaw tilting a little in evident annoyance at the thought of the man.

Worrying her lip with her teeth, she continued, "I think there's somethin' wrong with him."

"No shit," he snorted.

"No, I mean... When you said my name was Beth, he acted like you didn't know what you were talkin' about—and he's never called me anything but Annie, even when he's heard just about everyone else callin' me Beth," she explained.

"So?" he asked, and he flicked his free hand out as though he could not care one iota less.

"I... I think he's delusional," she slowly stated, mulling over her own words once she said them. "One of my cousin's friends had some sorta mental illness, and she said when he was off his medicine, he kept making things up, like he was some sort of Elvis incarnate and that people were out to get him, and he used to scream about paparazzi bein' there when they really weren't—and he believed all of it."

Daryl breathed in and out before he looked right at her.

"So, ya sayin' this guy Ian is a nutcase?" he asked in aggravation. "Figured that one out already, real quick."

"I'm sayin' that...I think he needs help," she said as she moved in close and pet his arm slowly. "Think I should talk to Daddy about this?"

"Nothin' stoppin' ya. But... I don't want that guy all up in your mouth," he mumbled when he thought of her upcoming appointment with him.

Her face blushed slightly, and she looked down at the ground with a big smile on her face. Now was definitely not the time, but what he said really didn't sound right.

"For f's sake, Beth," Daryl complained as he nudged the ground in agitation with the toe of his shoe as he blushed (he seemed more perturbed than embarrassed at the notion, however), "Getchyur mind out the gutter..."

"You were the one bein' all dirty the other day," she retorted, sticking her tongue out, although her face was red with embarrassment.

At least even with the seriousness of the situation, there was still some levity to break it up. She hugged him softly before she took off to go talk to her father.

"I think you may be right," Hershel commented as she relayed her thoughts to him. "Doesn't entirely seem like he's got evil intentions, but there is somethin' off about him."

"Ya didn't have to keep everything from me, either, y'know," she mumbled as she looked away.

Still, even now, it was hard for her to stand up to her father; she was his baby girl, and she adored him about as much as he doted on her, so she couldn't raise her voice in anger to him, ever. She may have had that defiant moment at the council meeting, but she still hadn't allowed herself to yell her frustrations to him.

"And I agree with you in that as well. I made a poor decision, and I think you should've been kept aware," he conceded. "I can check the supplies we have on hand 'n see if we have anythin' the boy can use until we go for more medication."

Beth nodded as she looked away to see someone walking closer. Around the corner, they heard a knock as Ian made his presence known.

"Hey, Annie," he said jovially as if the whole thing between them hadn't just occurred, although a chunky bandage strapped to his head indicated otherwise. "I thought you might forget about me, so I came to get you."

Staring hard at him, Beth clamped her jaw shut tightly, anxious, until Hershel gently touched her shoulder.

"You know, with this leg, it's hard for me to get around and everything, and my appointment's right after hers. Would ya mind helpin' me out, son?" he asked as he indicated his missing limb.

"Oh, not at all," Ian piped up helpfully, coming in and reaching under Hershel's arm to assist in relocating him to his new "office."

Beth turned her gaze around the room, trying to think of a way out of it, but she slowly wandered after them. Her father was a real pro at keeping up a facade with the man, joking about some of the children's actions and silly things that they had said just that day. Right before they neared the destination, her stomach felt like it was being squeezed by her nearly-shot nerves, but she needed to act like everything was normal—just like her father was.

When they entered the room, Ian suited up in a new pair of gloves and freshly-cleaned equipment. He then turned to face them with what she assumed was a smile on his face (he had a mask on, so she couldn't really tell).

"So, since both of you are here at once, who wants to go first?" he asked and glanced between them. Hershel volunteered, so he waved him over and flicked the nearby lamp on. "I take it you are not a fan of dentist offices?"

His question was directed at her, so Beth replied, "Never particularly liked 'em, no."

"I understand. I'm the same way with hospitals," he said casually.

"Why's that?" she asked with the hope of prying information out of him.

As he picked at her father's teeth and then snapped off a string of dental floss, he took several moments before deeming to reply.

"They always want me to take things I'm afraid of," he mumbled silently.

Sadness hit her, wondering what went on in his head until she remembered that she needed to press onward, for both their sakes.

"Why are you afraid?" she whispered.

A sigh escaped his lips, and he threw away the used dental floss and then slowly scraped away the build-up on Hershel's teeth to procrastinate his response.

"Sweetheart, we've talked about this," he murmured.

"I... I know. I'm really sorry, Ian," she lied, "but I just want to understand. Maybe if you tell me again..."

Her voice drifted off, and he laid down that utensil before picking up the small mirror and another instrument to chip off additional tartar at Hershel's back molars.

"I'm sorry," he hesitantly began. "I know I should do it, but..." Because he took so long to continue, Beth thought he wouldn't. "I can't."

Sighing, she looked away, and she heard him rustling around some of the items that he had with him.

"Annie, would you be a doll and open that drawer over there for me? I left one of my tools in there, and I need it," he sent her a pleading glance as he spoke before he turned back to Hershel.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly and nervously walked over to the shelf he had indicated.

Momentarily, she heard a muffled noise, and as she turned around, she felt a cloth held up to her nose and his constricting grip around her, a weird scent hitting her senses and making her feel lightheaded. Although she attempted to fight the feeling, it was over in a matter of seconds. Her mind and physical functions were overridden by a comforting sleeping sensation that she knew, in that brief instant before it set in, would put her life in jeopardy. But her fears—her thoughts—everything subsided, and she felt nothing until several hours later.

"Mm..." she groaned as she began to come to.

When she opened her eyes, her vision was somewhat blurred, and it was difficult to make out everything that was happening around her. After she finally could get a hold on her sense of vision, she noticed Ian talking to her, and she understood the words he was saying, but her mind couldn't hold any of them and make a cohesive pattern of them. She turned her head to look around the room a little and closed her eyes, almost falling asleep again since the room was dark, but he shook her shoulder a little.

"Annie," he called, "don't sleep."

She made a grumbling noise as she attempted to sit up, but she soon realized the futility of the motion. She could hardly move her neck upward, and when she moved her feet and hands, they, too, were bound.

"What... where is this?" she asked, panicking, and her voice cracked a little at first.

"My old dentist office—you don't remember? You used to come all the time," he said incredulously. "Oh, and don't worry about the others coming to bother us. When we went out, I took them to the competitor's building. Ah, and I've flattened the other vehicles' tires when we were outside earlier, so... We won't be disturbed."

He sat in a chair and scooted it close to her, petting her face, and she shied away from his hand.

"Annie, why are you acting like this with me?" he asked, throwing his hands down in annoyance. "I've been so good to you... I've done so much for you! Yet you always choose someone else in the end... Why...?"

"Ian, I think you need help—" Beth interjected, a sense of doom falling on her.

"Stop!" he nearly screamed, silencing her. "Stop. Shh..." He placed his finger to her lips and stared into her eyes. "You are my antidote. Every time I'm lost, I look at you, and...it's good. Everything's fine again! I... I love you, Annie. Please, don't let me lose you a second time..."

Tears were in his eyes, and Beth's own eyes widened as she tried to interpret his words and intent.

"I need you," he whispered, and he closed his eyes, his face nearing hers as his lips parted slightly to meet hers.

Sickened, Beth leaned back as far as she could and thrust her head forward against his in the same place that Daryl had hit him previously, and Ian shouted as he clasped his forehead.

"Dammit!" he growled, then turned to her after he recovered. "Annie, you're going to regret that."

Fear welled up inside her as he rummaged through the drawers to pull out a metal utensil.

"This will do..." he mumbled absently.

Wheeling himself back over, he forcibly placed the object inside her mouth and cranked it open. She fought it as much as she could, wiggling her head back and forth, but he managed to lock it in place. Her mouth was forced open wide as he inspected her teeth.

"Now," he began, "which one..."

Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, and she swallowed with difficulty, tears beginning to form in her eyes from fear. He pulled out what looked to be pliers and situated them on one of her far back molars. She shook him off twice, but the third time, he had set its hold on her tooth and quickly yanked. A metallic taste met her tongue, and her head throbbed at the intense pain she felt as a cry emanated from her throat. Her tooth remained in tact, still lodged in her head, but the force he had used in his attempt to pull it left her with tears falling down her cheeks from the sheer shock of it.

"Oh, Annie," he breathed quietly as he pet her face. "You'll be good to me now, won't you? I don't want to see you in pain... It hurts me so much. And I want you to keep all your teeth. You look so pretty with them."

The irony of his words made her thoughts spin angrily at him, but it wasn't like she could voice her opinions to him.

"Please, don't look so mad. I only want the best for you, but you needed to learn your lesson. What you've done has hurt me just as much," he cooed at her.

Closing her eyes, the last remaining tears fell, although the throbbing in her mouth and head still continued. He slowly touched his fingers to her cheek, stroking it gently before bringing them through her hair. She felt the pain continuing and could hardly pay attention to what he was doing because of it. Her mouth hurt so much, so she had a hard time trying to even stay focused on what he was saying.

"My love, everything will be all right. We'll kick off our band this December like we planned, and everyone will be in love with us. We'll be famous, and you will always be mine... We have to stay together, you understand?" he said soothingly.

Inside, Beth felt so hopeless and, honestly, scared. Ian wasn't at all what she had expected him to be, but she couldn't tell if he was better or worse than what she had imagined his worst would be.

"You're probably still suffering a bit from being knocked out," he mused. "I'll let you get your grasp on things and come back to you later."

He finally pulled away the metal device and set it on the counter beside him before he left to the lobby area.

All her thoughts were spinning, jumbling together. How had he gotten past the gates? How did he manage to kidnap her, anyway? Of course he knocked her out, but how did he transport her throughout the prison and out to a vehicle without others noticing? Or what lie did he say to get them to believe him?

She felt her heart clench at the last idea. If no one else suspected a thing, then no one would know she needed to be rescued. But Daryl had been on watch—how had she escaped like that without his notice? More tears formed and soon escaped her eyelids as she felt her heart sink.

What if no one was coming for her?

~+~Author's End Note~+~

You Are My Sunshine was the first song he sang to her, so that's the tune he whistles—just a little refresher.


	14. Stay with Me

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Thank you so much, guys, for keeping up with me until now! Suspense, suspense, suspense... I know, it has been pretty awful of me. But here is my next chapter! I hope you will enjoy it. Again, I'm sorry I'm not posting every day as I was. I wish I could, because I love writing this story. I want to know what happens, too, hahah; I'm writing more per chapter as well to at least attempt to make up for it. But thank you to all of you who view, follow, favorite, and review my story! Always, I enjoy seeing what you all have to say and get super pumped with each new notification of a new favorite/follow! Thank you DarylDixon'sLover, SaraiVe, An Amber Pen, TWD withdrawl, and ALCzysz17 for your reviews! Your input makes me so happy; this chapter better knock everyone's socks off (I hope so). Please, enjoy!

**Beth** couldn't tell if hours or minutes had passed—every breath she took seemed as though time stood still. She anticipated Ian's reentry at any moment, and the worry forced a cold sweat to her forehead. Not only was she still somewhat woozy from whatever he had drugged her with, but she was also dying of thirst. All she could taste was dryness on her tongue. Judging by that, she assumed several hours had to have passed—that, and the darkness enveloping her indicated the sun had already set, probably long ago.

Each second that went by increased her anxiety and feelings of hopelessness. Her wrists were becoming raw from trying to work herself off her bindings; none of her training had prepared her for this, and despair began to set in. Closing her eyes, Beth used every ounce of strength and groaned as she attempted to pull her hands free. Tears escaped her eyes, and her lip oozed blood where she bit down to quiet her sobs. Half of one of her hands had begun to come loose, and she gave a last tug in an attempt to pull free when the door opened.

Her eyes widened, darting to the doorway while tears blurred her vision, and she finally allowed her whimpering to sound since it didn't matter to keep quiet now. His figure approached slowly, and she closed her eyes as he neared. She couldn't fight against him in the state of things; he had an unfair advantage even when she wasn't bound, so clearly, there was nothing she could do now.

"Oh, Annie," he whispered quietly, and it sounded like a choked sob left his throat. "What have I done to you...?"

Blinking away her tears, she balked at his words. It sounded like he felt guilty, but she was extremely apprehensive. He appeared unstable, and anything new could set him off further.

"Oh, God," he began to cry as he pet her face, and when she retreated at his touch, he stepped back and held his hand to his face. "Not again... I should've taken the damn medication. Annie, I was just so scared... You came back, though! I... I thought I'd lost you forever.

"I saw you, I...I hurt you. My own hands..." his ramblings drifted away as he looked down at his hands then back to her. "You were dead... You were dead; I—I—I killed you. But you're here again! You returned to me, my angel, my goddess of forgiveness. You came back to redeem me, to give me a second chance."

He turned his hopeful gaze to her and took her face in his hands, but as his words sank into her, her heart throbbed at its fast speed, and she felt lightheaded from her panic.

"Annie, I swear to God I can change. I swear it! I'll go back on my medication, and we can be together again—just you and me, like it was supposed to be," he stated with a small, relieved laugh as his last tears fell. "Just wait."

Tears fell from her eyes as she sobbed, and he walked animatedly toward the door, facing her once he reached it.

"Won't you love me again?" he begged.

She couldn't open her eyes; she couldn't force herself to say a word to him. Her life was on the line, but even so, she refused to tell him what he wanted to hear. She wasn't who he thought she was. She would not go along with his delusions—who knew what else he would do to her? She would rather die than her other supposed alternative.

"Is it... Is it that redneck?" he stammered out, bitterness and fury creeping into his voice. "Him? You choose him, that filth, over me?!"

At her continued silence and avoidance of looking his way, he growled and swept his arms across the desk in front of him, the action scattering dental tools all across the room. She closed her eyes until he came up to her again and forced her face up toward him. When her icy blues locked on his pinpoint pupils, she saw that he was too far gone to save; there would be no negotiating with him now.

"No. I won't allow this; no, I will not," he said slowly. "He does not deserve you! He will never have you if I cannot! You were meant to be mine."

Since he was preoccupied, she continued to try to pull her hand free, but he soon stormed off to the door again. Giving a final glance back, he smirked wickedly.

"It ends tonight. We will never part again, Annie; we will meet together in paradise before the sun rises. I won't ever be able to hurt you again, nor you me," he said with such a calm stare, but his words were menacing.

Once he disappeared to the other side, he closed the door and locked it. Hurriedly, she ripped her hand free of the strap he had used to confine her, and she grabbed at the one at her chest. She groaned at the effort as she unlatched it and it slowly gave way, but her attention was drawn to the sound of walkers groaning as another door, the outer one, opened.

"No!" she heard Ian shout.

She picked up the pace as she attempted to free her other arm, knowing that if Ian didn't kill her, the walkers would. When Ian's scream was heard, she whimpered and released her second appendage before focusing on her legs. Although she couldn't tell if he was shouting in fear or anger or pain, she hardly cared either way and put all her focus on what she was doing. She muffled her own scream when she heard a walker scratching at the door; she was trying not to panic, but tears came to her eyes and made it difficult for her to work through her final bond. He had used cord for this one instead of belts like the others, and it was wrapped around and tied underneath, so it was nearly impossible to find the knot, much less to undo it. A knife would come in handy right about now.

She heard bodies fall, but it did not console her—even if the walkers died, she still had Ian to face. The outer door closed, and the doorknob to the office she sat in was twisted but not opened at first, and a few moments passed before the door opened again and closed behind the entrant.

She cried out, not once looking up but knowing that her end was soon—she couldn't rip away the cords in time. Instead, she reached up and flailed her arms at her assailant whom her tears made difficult to see.

There was no advantage left to her; she was as good as dead. But she still refused to give up. When he took her arms in his hands, she tried to bite at him.

"Beth!" he whispered in a hiss as he released his hold.

Disbelief was the first feeling she experienced at the sound, followed by fleeting relief, so she halted her actions for a moment, silence hanging in the air. Ian never called her "Beth." And it didn't sound like Ian—was her fear causing her to hallucinate also?

"Beth," she heard again as the figure approached her more carefully, holding his hands up to show he had no intention of hurting her.

"D... Daryl...?" she breathed out incredulously, the darkness and her tears making the visage of the other occupant in the room impossible to make out.

"Yeah, it's me," he said soothingly. "Beth, it's me..."

When he approached again, very slowly to avoid startling her, she saw that his hands were shaking. The bodies falling and Ian's screams were explained by Daryl's presence, and a sense of calmness flooded through her. His arms reached around her and pulled her into his warm, albeit sweaty, embrace, and she allowed herself to break down and cry, feeling his body shivering from his emotions.

"Beth," he started, a mixture of sadness and relief in his voice, "I'm sorry..."

Even though it seemed as though he wanted to release his feelings like she was, she sensed he was on edge. She leaned back to let him know she was fine for the time being so he could tell her what was wrong.

"There's gotta be more walkers around here," he explained. "I needa get ya home."

He pulled out his knife as he released his grip on her and sliced through her last set of bindings before passing her his knife.

"Watch yerself. I got my own back; I got yours, too, but keep an eye out," he stated as he opened the door, glancing around before collecting his bolts. Ian's body lay amongst the corpses, and she held no remorse over the bolt plucked out of his forehead nor the bite marks along his body.

The few walkers they met on the way to Daryl's motorcycle were taken out by him with Beth collecting his bolts, and he hopped onto the vehicle with room for her behind.

"Ian said...he slashed the tires," she mumbled as he entrusted his crossbow to her care so she wouldn't be fighting it for space.

"Tell me 'bout it. Was a bitch to get 'em," he replied, pointing to the ones on his bike before he motioned for her to take a seat. "Let's go."

Regardless of the fact he seemed to be trying to make light of the situation, she could tell he was seething. Slipping behind him, she held on tightly and winced at the pain in her wrists. They were both somewhat bloody and worn raw, and they throbbed at her efforts. She was probably getting blood on his shirt, too.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his revved engine, and he peeled out of the small town they had been in. She looked around, witnessing for the first time the route she had traveled, and then buried her face in his vest while she held him since she genuinely did not wish to commit these roads or any of the incident to memory. Even though they weren't talking, the time they were spending together was therapeutic to her—it calmed her shot nerves and allowed reality to settle back into a normal rhythm. She thought of her father and panicked for a second, but she figured she shouldn't disturb him as he drove. Still, what had Ian done to him?

The group of walkers they had met with was easily avoided, and they made it to the prison gates before the sun went up. Seeing a vehicle outside the wall, she made a face, but she didn't ask about it. Maggie and Carl were the ones to open the gates, but several others were awaiting their return, strewn across the prison yard. Once she dismounted, Daryl following suit, she felt her sister's embrace envelope her entirely, and she moved her head aside for breath.

"Beth, you're safe—" she began in tears.

"Where's Daddy?" Beth cut in urgently.

"He's..." she started, shocked at Beth's outburst, and moved back. "He's okay, Beth. He might wake up again soon—Ian drugged him, and we were scared he wouldn't wake up, but he did a little while ago."

Closing her eyes, she clutched her heart and turned back to Daryl, hugging him tightly. She didn't care that everyone was watching, now; she sobbed softly, glad that she was home and that her father was safe, but also despairing over what had and could have happened to her and thanking her lucky stars that Daryl had rescued her—he literally saved her life.

"What happened to you?" Carl asked, the only one bold enough to interject.

Daryl shot him a warning glance before he gently pushed Beth's shoulders back to look into her eyes, holding her there.

"Want somethin' to eat?" he asked tenderly.

She shook her head, but he still dragged her away through the crowd of prisoners assembled there to the kitchen. Carol had followed afterward and hugged Beth tightly before fixing her up a can of mixed vegetables while Daryl gave her a glass of water. She hissed in pain when he accidentally touched her wounded wrist, almost dropping her cup, and he petted the side of her face in apology.

Once Carol had deposited the food on the girl, Daryl asked her, "Could you see if we have somethin' for those?"

He pointed to her wrists by way of explanation, and the woman nodded and strode out of the room. A couple people had braved entry in the meantime, but Daryl warded them off quickly. Only Maggie and Glenn were allowed to remain as they made their way into the room. Beth was now seated on the cool ground, back to the wall, and Maggie huddled over her, petting her hair and giving her kisses on her face and head without asking for explanation. Beth had only eaten a portion of her unappetizing meal, but her water was almost gone. She was advised against downing it like she had wanted to, but the sickness in her stomach told her why she should be grateful she hadn't: by taking it slowly, at least she could keep down what she had.

"Should we tell her the damage?" Glenn asked.

"Gonna find out one way or another," Daryl responded curtly.

Hesitating until he saw Beth's attentive gaze, Glenn started, "Ian slit our tires. Only a couple were still holding air by the time we found out what happened. Some idiots here believed him when he said you had an adverse reaction to the medication he gave you; he said he needed to take you to his office where he had medication for it and that you wouldn't wake up otherwise, but he refused to let anyone go with him."

Tears slid down Maggie's face in an apology she couldn't voice. She wouldn't have believed that lie, but Beth imagined she felt responsible for not accompanying her as she had been for everything else.

"Well, Daryl saw him and signaled to keep the gates shut, but they didn't watch for it, and when they saw it, they still didn't follow through with what he was telling them to do. Long story short, we had to make a vehicle-less run to get tires and a battery-operated air compressor, and a couple of us...didn't make it," he remarked grimly.

"Why didn't they listen to Daryl?" Beth asked when she found her voice. "Protocol says the person on watch regulates what happens."

Since she wished to adhere to the rules and do well to prove herself on watch, of course she had been paying attention to what Daryl taught her.

"Because Ian made it seem like a big emergency, so they figured Daryl didn't know about it yet. He was really pissed," he added before continuing his story. "We hot-wired a vehicle on the way back, but it didn't last long—it gave out just outside the fence. Only two tires to Daryl's bike, so that's what we went out and got, and, fortunately, the battery and compressor worked. There was no way we could tell, and it would be a surefire way to become walker chow to sound one off inside a store to check."

That explained the random vehicle sitting there as well as the time it took for Daryl to arrive.

"How did you know where I was? Ian said he took you to someone else's office," she questioned Daryl.

He looked away instead of answering, and Glenn picked up the conversation again.

"Well... One of the people who opened the fence had been a prior patient of his, but Ian didn't recognize him—he trusted Ian based off his one experience with him, and Daryl kind of..." he trailed off.

"He got the truth out of him," Maggie finished. "He did what he needed to do to get ya home."

She still had puzzlement on her face about Daryl's brash actions, so Glenn answered, "Daryl thought he was in cahoots with Ian; that's why he reacted physically right off the bat. He's okay, though; mostly."

Glancing up at Daryl, she figured that his silence corroborated the events that they said took place. The sun had begun its journey upward into the sky, and tendrils of light made their way into the room, seemingly bringing in with them Rick as well as Carol and Hershel. She saw Daryl's fists clench and his jaw set in place, a steely expression on his face. When she saw to whom it was directed, her heart dropped.

"It's good to see you back," Rick initiated the talk. "Carol's got the medicine to fix you back up with."

The woman mentioned shortly moved toward Beth after pulling up a chair for Hershel, Maggie backing away from her younger sister in the meantime, and Carol began applying a salve to her wounds followed by a soft medical cloth which she wrapped around and gently tied at each wrist. After completing her task, she stroked the girl's knuckles warmly and tucked away the medication again, taking her place between Rick and Daryl once more.

"I don't think now's the right time to talk about this," Hershel stated, taking his seat in the offered chair; he seemed weary.

"Nothin' to talk about," Daryl responded coolly.

Glancing between the two, Beth finally spoke again, "What's goin' on now?"

Maggie whispered something in her ear, and Beth's eyes stared in shock at the two of them.

"Well, it's not gonna be decided without a talk," Rick stated in an attempt to placate both sides.

"I don't see no reason we gotta talk about it; this ain't a discussion," Daryl spoke angrily.

"Daryl, you're a good man, but it ain't gonna work this way," Hershel replied.

"What way?" he answered, his tone volatile. "The way where you leave your girl to get drunk when she wants to kill herself, or where you let her be around a damn psychopath 'n don't trust my decisions or even your own daughter to know wha's goin' on?"

Carol glanced down, appearing to agree with Daryl's sentiments.

"Everyone deserves a chance," Hershel countered, but Daryl wouldn't have it.

"Or how about the one where he takes her off and could've done God knows what with her?!" he nearly yelled.

"Daryl!" Rick jumped in.

"No, Rick. I don't need none of your patronizing bullshit, either. Beth stays with me; tha's it," he stated with finality, and no one protested his helping Beth to her feet and leading her away with him; there was nothing more they could say.

Warmth and anxiety both blossomed in her chest from what had just happened since Daryl had just assumed responsibility for her, but she also felt deeply cut by the words Daryl had spoken; however, those words rang with truth. He made it clear as day how he felt about the situation and how he thought everyone else should look at it, also—her father wasn't the most suitable person to care for her any more, and no one could contest that. A few tears slid down her cheeks as she slowed her stride, thinking of her father's poor decisions leading to what had happened. Daryl stopped when she did and looked at her, and sympathy washed over him at her tears. Wiping them away, he kissed her forehead.

"Ain't nobody loves you like I do, Beth," he murmured quietly. "I'll die protectin' ya."

"Don't say that," she whispered softly. "You can't die."

His deep blue eyes looked between hers as understanding set in, and he drew her close as his lips met hers in a slow, meaningful kiss. Although the shallow puncture in her lip from biting it earlier stung, the kiss was sweet enough to dull the pain.

"If you die, Daryl... I don't want to exist anymore," she admitted during a pause in their kiss.

Holding his forehead to hers, similarly to the very first time he touched her like this, he cradled her body against his as though holding brittle glass. It seemed like he expected her to break at any moment.

"Promise me we'll make it through this together?" she pleaded, leaning back in his arms to look into his eyes in the soft morning light spilling into the hallway.

In the blink of an eye, she was grasped firmly in his rough hands while his lips seized hers in a lengthy kiss. The familiar feeling of a fast heartbeat met her again, only now accompanied by a warm sensation bubbling inside her which made her shiver. Although the pain receding was welcomed, she was saddened at his lips' absence until she gazed into his beautifully blue orbs and the sincerity shining from them.

"I promise," he murmured close to her, planting a gentle kiss to her forehead.

A few spectators had gathered in the adjacent room, and a blush marred her pale cheeks, deepening when he laced his fingers through hers and dragged her off to her room. Questioning whispers with unintelligible words hit her ears, and she closed her eyes to ward off her embarrassment (unsuccessfully, however, as she managed to trip and be caught in Daryl's grasp until she could balance herself).

He kissed her cheek with a small smile to make her feel better about her mishap, and she sprinted past him to her room. Picking up her only prior form of solace, she held it carefully in her arms and flipped to the last inked page. Daryl made his entrance, sealing it shut with the limited barrier of the sheet, and stopped momentarily to stare at her before he shed his vest and weapon, laying them aside and kicking off his shoes. She tried to ignore her difficulty in breathing and pretended that Daryl, her crush and, now, rescuer, was not taking up residence in her bed.

She seated herself beside him while he lay there, her back to him and legs over the side, and she slowly, deliberately began to etch her thoughts onto paper before her mind completely blanked out in sleep (or anxiety at her new arrangement).

"Dear diary, I was kidnapped by Ian yesterday. I didn't know if I would be able to get back to you or not, really. Apparently, he killed this Annie girl he used to know, and he thought I was she, brought back to life or something. It's so jumbled up and confusing... I don't know what to say about it; I don't want to even remember it. It took a long time for Daryl to come rescue me because Ian had sabotaged the vehicles by slashing the tires—it had to be long past midnight by the time he got to me.

I still have a lot of questions about it, and I want to know, but at the same time, I'm really nervous right now—Daryl is staying with me, and I think that's going to be a permanent thing. He put his foot down against Daddy, Rick—everyone. And he even made it obvious we're together in front of other people by kissing me and holding my hand and pulling me along with him through the prison. I'm sure a couple others saw him come in here with me, too, so I know for a fact the whole prison will know by the day's end.

I guess I shouldn't worry about that, though; I'm really just glad to be alive."

At that, she glanced at Daryl who seemed to have already fallen into sleep's grasp. She smiled at his resting form as she bid her diary goodnight.

"Daryl swore to me we would make it through this together; knowing he'll always be by my side is enough for me. Although my wrists are still hurting really badly and I'm still shaken up by what happened, I think I'll be able to rest easy tonight since he's here. Good night, diary."


	15. Growing Strength

~+~Author's Note~+~

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

I'm sorry, guys—I've been sitting on this chapter for about a day after it was finished because I wasn't sure I liked the direction I was putting it in, but I do. I have thus decided, hah. But anyway, I will do my best to get you guys another chapter! (And I will make sure to let you know when I'm done writing, whether it be the story is completed or I have nowhere to go with it—but I don't see the latter happening.) Oh! I'm working on a little lemony Bethyl piece right now as well, so be on the lookout for it if that's what you're into (wink). It's not up yet, but it's in the works. It might be out before the next chapter, but I'm going to make it a one-shot. On to my thank-you's! Thank you to my epic reviewers, SaraiVe, An Amber Pen, DarylDixon'sLover, ALCzysz17, Kshawbee, and TheWalkingDeadx. I was super excited to see so many reviews! Much love to you guys and to all the people who follow/favorite or simply read my story. Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one with Beth's character development.

**S**everal minutes had passed, and, since she normally slept at night, it was difficult for Beth Greene to force herself to rest—especially considering the addition of a new occupant in her bed. For it being such a small space, she was surprised Daryl was sleeping comfortably there with his legs slightly curled up; however, that also left her next to no room.

Forced with the dilemma of either waking him up or curling her body next to his in the remaining space, she chose the latter and attempted to breathe slowly to calm herself so she could slip into dreamland. But feeling the warm air Daryl exhaled blowing across her neck sent chills up and down her body, and she wished she could snuggle in her blanket to avoid it (he fell asleep without them). She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, and she was so exhausted that her wish was eventually granted.

"Hey," she heard a familiar, young voice say.

When she looked around, she saw she was standing next to a bed.

"Is he getting worse?" the same voice said, and she felt like she had heard it before.

At first, she couldn't make out the face of the girl, but it was Mika. As she continued to look, however, she noticed that the girl looked older and slimmer, and she wore a twisted smirk. Growling and moaning was heard beside her, and she knew where the sense of déjà vu was coming from.

"Don't worry; he's fine now," the dream Lizzie stated calmly with half-closed eyes.

She looked at the now-deceased Patrick within her dream, and although she knew she was no longer awake, dread filled her body. She tried to back away, but she noticed she was no longer standing upright, and her wrists, chest, and ankles were bound. To her right, she heard another voice that sent fear directly to her core and a jolt throughout her body.

"We'll never part again, Annie; not after tonight. You're first," Ian's chilling words, distorted in her dream, rang through her mind in an endless echo.

Angling her head to the side to watch the nearing walker, Beth felt hot tears slipped down the side of her face as she embraced the inevitable—she had heard before that if someone dies in his sleep, he won't wake up, and now she would know if that were true. The walker Patrick approached her agonizingly slowly, and her body shook, her eyes spilling more tears. Pain ripped through her from her arm where his teeth sank into her bare skin and pulled, and she screamed before she noticed her arms were being grasped by someone.

Now she was sitting up again, and it was dark.

"Daryl...?" she breathed out. "Daryl, is that you?"

Instead of replying, the figure shivered and let go of her, receding from her vision a little at a time.

"What's wrong? Why are you leaving?" she asked.

Looking down, the torn-away flesh from her arm clued her in. Had she actually been bitten? Now she was losing track of reality and her dream.

"Daryl," she cried, then softly added, "I'm scared."

She heard the scrape of a bolt sliding out of its quiver, letting her know what was soon to follow. Had she fantasized about Daryl rescuing her? Was she actually still stuck with Ian, and had a walker bitten her? Or was everything until now a dream?

Her thoughts were interrupted by his soft, husky voice breaking the silence.

"I'm sorry," she heard Daryl murmur sadly before the sound of a string pulled taught and a click hit her ears.

"Wait, please!" she begged. "Daryl, don't do this."

As he took aim, her heart raced.

"Daryl, I haven't turned yet—there's so much I have to say still," she pleaded tearfully.

He lowered his weapon momentarily before bringing it back up at eye level.

"I can't," he said, voice cracking, and those two words made her heart sink.

She felt sick, and the snap of the bolt being flung from the weapon forced a scream from her lips.

"Beth," she heard, and she kept her eyes closed.

She didn't want to see anything else; everything she had witnessed so far in her slumbering mind's world had only upset and panicked her. Lines of cool air down her face from her tear trails and the gentle massaging of her arms by warm hands gave her the illusion of reality, so she hesitantly opened her eyes.

"Am I... awake?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Daryl replied, tilting her back into his arms and embracing her gently.

Sighing, she began to relax since he repeatedly kissed her head and stroked her shoulders with his thumbs. Instead of speaking, she waited for him to say something again for fear that she was still actually unconscious.

"Y'know," he started slowly, moving her so she was leaning back against his chest. He stroked her hair softly, still holding onto her with his other arm when he continued, "I ain't been so scared for a good long while until las' night."

With the muggy warmth in the room as well as the light indicating daylight and the lack of blurriness to everything around her, Beth reassured herself that she was firmly planted in reality now, and she perked up to what Daryl was telling her while she rubbed at the cold splotches on her cheeks.

"I had this feelin' like...ya had to be okay," he added after a minute. "I saw ya for a moment through the window; saw 'im lock ya up. I was so pissed.

"When I had ya, and ya bit at me, I thought... thought for a secon' that..." his words slowed to a stop. "I thought he got ya, Beth. I was thinkin' I lost ya, too. I was so f'in' scared..."

His grip tightened around her as he sniffed, clearing his throat to try to cover up the fact he was upset, and she held both her hands over his, her heart hurting over the pain he clearly was experiencing.

"Daryl..." she whispered.

"I was blamin' myself, yer sister, yer father, everyone—even God, whatever 'n whoever else is out there. But," he paused and kissed her on top of her head again, "when I heard yer voice... I knew I was given a second chance. I knew that... I couldn't f' up again n' let no one else tell me what was right by you. _I'm_ protectin' ya now. Ain't a thing gonna happen to ya again."

He laced his fingers through hers from behind her hand and stared at her palm as he traced the lines on it with the index finger of his other hand, leaving a tickling sensation wherever his finger traveled.

"I broke that promise once, 'n I'm sorry," he mumbled into her ear, his voice thick with emotion.

It sounded like he was on the verge of crying, which would only make her cry as well, so she spun around in his arms and pressed her lips to his to comfort him, gently holding his head in her palms and leaning against his chest. He had no reason to apologize, not in her eyes. He had only tried to follow her father's wishes and do the accepted thing, but that didn't turn out well; it's not like he had planned for her to get kidnapped or any of the other incidents that occurred up to that point.

"I love you, Daryl," she said softly before kissing him again. "Ya saved my life; nothin' happened to me; I'm okay."

"Beth," he stopped her and took her hands in his, looking at her wrists, "this," he paused for emphasis, "wun't 'nothin',' and it coulda been worse than this. I heard and saw ya cryin' jus' now; that ain't 'nothin',' either."

"Daryl, I'm fine—" she rebutted.

"Beth," he repeated her name yet again as he cut her off. She stared at him, perplexed, and tilted her head. His eyes refused to meet hers, and it took a good amount of time before he spoke again. "What ya said to me...last night..."

Her heart throbbed, anticipating what he was going to say. He seemed embarrassed, and even though she found him extremely adorable in the moment, she only wanted to know what was on his mind.

"I feel the same," he finally admitted.

"Wait," she said when he didn't let on what he meant, and she played back everything she told him the day before. He seemed unwilling to continue (more from his feeling awkward than anything else), and she pressed her mind for an answer with furrowed brows.

"_If you die, Daryl... I don't want to exist anymore,"_ she recalled saying.

Really, she hadn't had much to say to him before or after that that would make sense with what he just said, and when the realization hit her, her face burned hotly with embarrassment, and her eyes widened as they scanned his face. She continued to look at him while the thought replayed in her mind, and his stare only confirmed what she was thinking. Was he really that deeply in love with her?

"Daryl," her question started, "do you..." Changing direction, she asked, "When did you start likin' me?"

He looked away and down to the ground in avoidance of her inquiry. Nervously, he rubbed his thumb against her hand, and she stared at him curiously.

"You were talkin' about me wantin' to kill myself before; I really didn't think you'd taken notice of me then, did you?" she pressed him.

He shook his head a little as he continued to keep his face turned.

"Well... Was it long after that?" she asked.

Again, he shook his head with a little smile. It seemed she had to play the twenty questions game in order to get her answer, if she even could.

"You're just teasin' me, aren't you?" she pouted, pressing her lips together as her arms crossed.

His eyes locked with hers, and even though he was somewhat amused by her, he actually was being serious.

"Well, then, when was it?" she asked in mock exasperation, a smile at her lips after.

"Wasn' after," he mumbled and shrugged his shoulders.

Her brows lowered in confusion.

"Wh... Okay, hold on, what?" she asked. "What, were you, like, stalkin' me or somethin' before?"

She let loose a small giggle at the idea—the thought was almost comical, what with who Daryl really was. Truthfully, she couldn't imagine him standing in the shadows staring longingly at some hormonal teenager; that really didn't strike her as Daryl Dixon.

"Might tell ya someday," he legitimately teased her now, and he mussed her hair before he got up and threw on his things.

Huffing, she fixed her hair and shot off after him when he left her room, not caring that the few people in the vicinity were muttering and staring at them. At least he had managed to work her out of her funk from her nightmare.

"Don't just leave me!" she demanded. "Come on, Daryl, now ya gotta tell me after leading me on like that."

Casting a smirk her way, he continued on his path to the kitchen which forced her to amp up her stride to match his. They sat next to each other for "breakfast," which was actually dinner for everyone else, and she did not pause from her incessant pestering for more information until other people came to join them (Carl, Rick, Maggie, and Glenn). Honestly, though, it was probably better for her that they showed up because she may not have eaten otherwise.

Canned food never tasted so good—before she knew it, she had downed two servings of ravioli mixed with vegetables, Maggie offering her own food at the sight. Beth declined sheepishly, imagining she had to have looked like some sort of ravenous beast as she ate. Previously, she had had similar thoughts towards the way Daryl ate as well, and she smiled at the memory, understanding his actions now.

"Whatchoo smilin' for?" her thoughts' subject asked.

"Not a thing," she replied coyly, pretending to hide a secret similarly significant to his to use as leverage, but her sister's voice interrupted her plan.

"Are you sure you're all right after everything?" Maggie interjected. "I know I keep askin', but I just care about ya is all. Are you still hungry?"

"I'm fine, Maggie," she answered, turning her attention back to Daryl.

"Relax, mother hen," Glenn joked which earned him a glare from the one addressed. "What? She's already eaten like more than twice what she normally does."

"Did he handcuff you?" Carl asked, obviously fascinated with the wounds at her wrists and how she obtained them.

With Rick's parental glance toward him telling him "no," Beth simply shook her head and replied, "Guess again."

She didn't see her father there for dinner at all, and she hoped that he was being taken care of, but part of her was still reticent to talk to him after what happened early in the morning. She hoped he wasn't upset with her. Once Beth and Carl played the guessing game for a few more rounds, Daryl stood up suddenly and trotted away to all but Rick's and Glenn's confusion. Even when he was angry, his stride looked deliberate and graceful, and Beth envied him greatly while she took off after him, bidding the others a quick goodbye.

"Daryl," she called once she caught up to him outdoors, "what's wrong?"

"It ain't a damn joke," he growled.

"What...?" she checked; she wasn't sure if she had heard correctly.

"I don't wanna hear that damn psycho's name ever again, and I don't want to keep talkin' about what he did to ya, like it's some sorta game," he responded, staring off past the gates as he threw pebbles at the walkers.

"Well, if ya don't want it brought up again, I'll just tell everyone what happened all at once so they stop askin'," she suggested, and he glanced askance at her to rule out that option. "I dunno; what should I do, then?"

"Tell everyone to f' off 'n it's none of their business," he grumbled, not even smirking when a walker's head tilted back from the last stone he threw.

She grimaced and walked closer, taking his hands in hers so he would stop throwing things, and gazed at him until he returned her stare.

"They were worried, Daryl. A couple people died to get things to help save me; the least I could do is let everyone know I'm okay. I haven't really even talked to anyone," she explained. "But I promise I won't talk about it or say his name around you again."

"I don't want him in yer head," he stated and looked away. "If ya need ta say somethin', say it, but..."

His eyes fell on her again, and he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear with his fingers before sliding his hands behind her neck and back and holding her gently.

"I can't make 'im disappear there," he mumbled into her hair, massaging her head slowly while he worked his fingers through her blonde waves.

She closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of his embrace and the meaning behind his words. It was sweet of him to wish her nightmares away, but she needed him to know that she would be strong enough to handle this.

"Daryl," she said to get his attention, and he leaned her back in his hands. "You don't _always_ need to protect me, ya know; that's why I wanted to train in the first place. I don't want to have to rely on everyone all the time—you, out of everyone here... you know that.

"And I'm not sayin' I don't need you, because... I do, just... I'll be okay. I'm getting stronger all the time, and this was a really bad moment for both of us, but we made it; we survived. I won't break from this, especially since it's all over."

Startlingly blue eyes glanced between hers, and she wasn't sure how he would react, but his lip curled up into a slight smile as he pet her face slowly—he seemed like he was proud of her inner strength. His rugged features coupled with his sweet affection and worry for her made him appear young and insecure inside his matured, masculine frame. She didn't know how he could be so adorable and handsome at the same time, but as her lips met his in a warm kiss, she really didn't care; Daryl Dixon, in all of his perfection in her eyes, was hers, and that was all that mattered.

"But... you have to tell me something," she said sweetly to hide her intentions when their kiss broke.

"Hm?" he murmured, eyes locked on hers.

"When did ya start likin' me?" she inquired impishly, grasping his hands tightly in an attempt to keep him locked there, and hopped directly in front of him, displaying her frustrated curiosity.

A small chuckle escaped him, and he kissed her on the forehead when she stopped jumping around.

"Yer stupid," he said with a grin, echoing another conversation they had.

"So are you," she mumbled with a smile as he satisfied her longing for an answer temporarily with a kiss instead.

"Later," he eventually replied and let his fingers slip out of hers.

She sighed in mild aggravation but followed him back inside, at least feeling better that she had coaxed Daryl out of his bad mood. When they returned inside, they were beckoned back to the table by Rick and the others. Upon joining them again, they were immediately barraged with an influx of information.

"Hey, we know you guys needed sleep, so we had a meeting just a bit before dinner without you," Glenn commented.

"I wanted to make sure Beth would eat first before we talked about it," Maggie added.

"Now that everyone's all topped up on food and sleep, we needa let you in on what's happening," Rick stated. "I know you just got back, Daryl, but I know you don't want anyone else touchin' your bike, so it has to be you. Ian," (at the mention of his name, Daryl's stare went cold), "took our only functioning vehicle besides yours out there. We're gonna need it to go on another run here soon, so I want to get it back tomorrow."

"Someone else is gonna have to come along, huh," Daryl mumbled and shot a glance at Beth.

"But Beth can't drive," Maggie intervened.

"I've done it a couple times," she countered, but she kind of had a feeling where this was going anyway.

"It's not that hard," Glenn chipped in to Maggie's aggravation.

"I'll drive!" Carl piped up, and Rick turned him down immediately to his evident displeasure.

"Unfortunately, I think we all know how this is going to work out. You and Beth are gonna have to go out there and get it back," he explained. "Then when you return, we can use that vehicle to get tires for the others. Maybe another battery for the air compressor, too, to be safe."

Contemplating the situation, Beth turned and looked at Daryl who seemed to be thinking on it as well. Maggie appeared agitated while Glenn attempted to appease her, rather unsuccessfully. Carl also looked rather peeved, presumably about the fact that he wasn't considered a viable option for the job at hand, and Rick was simply staring expectantly at the two of them.

"We do this, this is the last I want to hear of his name. You make sure no one breathes a word about him or what happened when we get back," Daryl bargained.

"I'll let everyone know not to talk about it, but I can't control what happens," Rick stated, trying to comply with Daryl's wishes.

"Come on, Beth can't do this. She's still hurt from that," Maggie retorted and indicated Beth's wrists. "At least let her recover; I'll go instead."

"Maggie, I _can_ do this. And I'm going to," Beth said fearlessly. "I'm going with Daryl tomorrow."

"Beth," she tried again, but the younger sister would not allow her to come up with something else.

"No. I can handle myself now, and I trust Daryl with my life. I'm no safer here without him than out there with him," she contested, and no further rebuttals were made due to recent events proving her words true.

"It's on your time table, but the sooner the better. I don't wanna be runnin' this place without transportation," Rick advised.

"Good as done," Daryl commented before leaving the room, Beth in tow.

They had walked out of the room and down a few hallways past a few groups before a particularly noisy one caught her attention.

"—taking advantage of that. I mean, she looks like a poor little puppy following after him like that," Beth heard from around the corner, and her mind zoned in on the implied subject of Daryl and herself.

"Excuse me?" she asked, stopping and detouring to talk with the older, beak-nosed Woodbury woman who was gossiping along with a few others, and she felt an anger bubbling inside her that she had never once before felt in her life.

"Oh, hey, Annie," another one of them said.

"It's not Annie. Don't ever call me by that name again," she nearly snarled before turning her attention to the first one she heard speak. "My name is Beth; you know, the girl that got kidnapped and almost got killed. And that guy over there? That's Daryl. I'm sure you know him; he's provided for this group more than I think anyone else has, and he saved my life from the man you were all so happy to be around just the other day. I love Daryl, so...back off."

When the women took on disapproving faces and stated things like "You're still a child" and "He's far too old for you," she retorted, "I didn't need my daddy telling me who I should and shouldn't be with, and I don't need you to do that, either. Without him," she pointed at Daryl, "I would be dead. I didn't see any of you coming to save me from a psychopath. Stop pretendin' you care."

With that, she turned back to an awestruck Daryl who smirked once she returned to his side, and he sent a wink back at the ladies as he brought his arm across her shoulders possessively. She didn't know what possessed her to speak that way towards her elders, but it may have been a combination of the stress of what she had just been through in addition to the attachment to Daryl she had. She would never have felt so angry over herself, but because it was him, she was infuriated by their remarks.

"Calm down, tiger," he muttered, amused, with the same smirk planted on his face.

Honestly, it bothered her a little that he wasn't at all perturbed by what they said, also taking into account that she stuck her neck out for him and their relationship.

"That didn't bother you?" she asked with a mixture of astonishment and grievance.

"Not as much as it bothered you," he replied, knowing she was pouting about it and enjoying it.

"You're a sadist," she murmured.

"Wouldn't ya like to know just how much of one I can be," he growled in her ear, and she felt a shiver go up her spine as her face flushed.

"What...?" she asked with wide eyes.

He continued forward, his arm slipping from her shoulders while she stood there for a moment. That was it; that was the reason he picked on her so frequently. He enjoyed seeing her flustered, and his taunting smile turned back to her solidified that fact.

"Dear diary, I made Daryl go to his own room tonight because he really got me in a tizzy. I didn't know what he was going to do to me if I let him stay! I really think he was just teasing me, but... Ugh. I'm such a child still, but he's just going to have to deal with it. If I hadn't tripped and nearly fallen on my face right after he looked back at me, maybe I could've saved some of my dignity, but I lost all of it when I kicked him out and accidentally had his hand brush against my chest... I wanted to die right then, and I know he's probably still laughing at me. So mean... but his laugh is just so adorable, so I can't help but not stay mad at him.

I had an awful nightmare, but Daryl was really sweet to me when I woke up from it. I think he really loves me...like a lot. But he refused to tell me when he started liking me! I still want to know, but he won't give me any more hints. He said it was before I tried to kill myself, but... We didn't really see each other much before that or really all that much after, either. I'm so confused. Maybe he's just pulling my chain, but he looked like he was being serious.

Well, I need to sleep. I don't feel all that tired—I guess I should—but Daryl and I have to go on a run to get the car Ian stole back. Hopefully nothing too bad happened to it by now, but it's only been a day. I guess we'll see tomorrow—I'm driving it back. I've only driven a few times, never got my license, so...that'll be different.

Wish me luck."


End file.
